Digitized by the Internet Archive in 2007 with funding from IVIicrosoft Corporation http://www.archive.org/details/ancientgreekhistOOburyuoft THE ANCIENT GREEK HISTORIANS \ THE MACMILLAN COMPANY NEW YORK • BOSTON • CHICAGO ATLANTA • SAN FRANCISCO MACMILLAN & CO., Limftsd LONDON • BOMBAY • CALCUTTA MKLBOURNB THE MACMILLAN CO. OF CANADA, Lto. TOKONTO B / JTHE ANCIENT GREEK HISTORIANS n (HARVARD LECTURES) j^ BY f. Br^URY,^ LiTT.D., LL.D. • tXGius PRorxssoR or modern history in the unitxrsitt or c^mbrumk 507803 ae>. & so THE MACMILLAN COMPANY 1909 All rights reserved 111 BE Ck>PTBIGHT, 1909, By the MAOMILLAN OOMPANT. Set up and electrotyped. Published January, 1909. Noitfooti 9nM : Berwick & Smith Co., Norwood, Mass., U.S.A. TAPAINEP MAPTINni AAIN *IAEAAHNI ^lAEA^HN > PREFACE This volume consists of the Lane Lectures which I had the honour of delivering at Harvard Uni- versity in spring 1908, under the auspices of the Classical Department. They are printed very nearly as they were originally written, though some of my kind hearers, if they should glance through, may detect a good many passages which were omitted in the Lecture Hall. The book amounts to a historical survey of Greek historio- graphy, down to the first century B.C., and such as it is, I dedicate it to Mr. Gardiner M. Lane, who founded the lecturership some years ago in the interests of humanistic study. The lecture on Herodotus would have gained much if Mr. Macau's admirable work on the last three Books had appeared in time for me to use it. It was satisfactory to find that he had established the priority of those Books with a convincing array of arguments. I have inconsistently included his edition of vii.-ix. in the Bibliography; for the purpose of the list is to make a general acknow- ledgment of obligations which in lectures of this kind could not conveniently be acknowledged in vii viii ANCIENT GREEK HISTORIANS detail. There are not very many questions con- nected with the Greek historians which I have not at one time or another talked over with my friend Mr. Mahaffy, and I feel sure that I owe him much which neither of us could now verify. September 5, 1908. I CONTENTS LKrr. I. The Rise of Greek History in Ionia . § 1. The Historical Aspect of the Epics § 2. The Foundation of History by Hecataeus The Successors of Hecataeus : § 3. Early Mytho graphers . § 4. Early Historians § 5. Summary . ''n. Herodotus y in. Thucydides § 1. His Life and the Growth of his Work. § 2. His Principles of Historiography : accuracy and relevance .... § 3. Modern Criticisms on his Competence § 4. His Treatment of non-contemporary History 102 ■^ IV. Thucydides (continued) § 1. The Speeches 107 107 § 2. Dramatic Treatment of the historiae personae ll6 123 131 § 3. Rationalistic View of History § 4. Political Analysis .... The Development of Greek Historiography after Thucydides . . . . . .150 § 1. The Generation after Thucydides (Xeno- phon, Cratippus, Philistus) . . .150 § 2. The Influence of Rhetoric . . . . l60 § 3. The Influence of Philosophy and the Rise of Antiquarianism . . . . .179 ix 1 2 8 18 21 33 36 75 75 81 91 X ANCIENT GREEK HISTORIAN LXCT. I VI. PoLYBius (and Poseidonius) .... 1 con- VII. The Influence of Greek on Roman HistoruW pot ORAPHY ........ 224 VIII. Views of the Ancients concerning the Use of History .,....,, 242 Appendix. The Re-handling of his History by Thucydides 26 1 Bibliography ......... 267 Index 273 I THE ANCIENT GREEK HISTORIANS € LECTURE I THE RISE OF GREEK HISTORY IN IONIA In these lectures I propose to trace the genesis and the development of the historical literature of the Greeks. I will attempt to bring into a connected view the principles, the governing ideas, and the methods of the Greek historians, and to relate them to the general movements of Greek thought and Greek history. I need hardly apologize for devoting much of our time to Herodotus and Thucydides, who, however familiar to us from childhood, have the secret of engaging an interest that is never exhausted and never grows stale. As a Hellenist, I shall be happy if I succeed in illustrating the fact that, as in poetry and letters generally, as in art, as in philosophy, and in mathematics, so too in history, our debt to the Greeks transcends calculation. They were not the first to chronicle human events, but the were the first to apply criticism. And that means, they originated history. IS I B 2 ANCIENT GREEK HISTORIANS lectt. § 1. The historical aspect of the Epics Long before history, in the proper sense of the word, came to be written, the early Greeks possessed a literature which was equivalent to history for them and was accepted with unreserved credence — their epic poems. The Homeric lays not only entertained the imagination, but also satisfied what we may call the historical interest, of the audiences who heard them recited. This interest in history was practical, not antiquarian ; the story of the past made a direct appeal to their pride, while it was associated with their religious piety towards their ancestors. Every self-re- specting city sought to connect itself, through its ancient clans, with the Homeric heroes, and this constituted the highest title to prestige in the Greek world. The poems which could confer such a title were looked up to as authoritative historical documents. In disputes about territory the lUad was appealed to as a valid witness. The enormous authority of Homer, the deep liold which the Trojan epics had won on the minds and hearts of the Greeks, may partly explain the puzzle, why it was so long before it occurred to them to record recent or contemporary events. For when we consider the early growth of their political intelligence, the paucity of their historical records must strike us with surprise. In the seventh century they were far advanced in political I THE EPICS AS HISTORY 3 experience. Sparta, for instance, had a compli- cated constitution ; yearly magistrates had been introduced at Athens. The number of the small independent states which had to live together, some of which had special relations to one another, tended to develop the poHtical sense. Intensity of political life had been the outcome of the institution of the polis, and the Hellenic world was the scene of numerous and various experi- ments in government In these conditions, political literature originated. Archilochus, Tyr- taeus, Solon, and Theognis were the most eminent of the ancient publicists who dealt with current politics in metrical pamphlets. But the Greeks of this period felt no impulse to record their experiences in historical records ; the only history they cared for was still furnished by the epics. Long before this, Egypt and Assyria had abundant contemporary records, narratives of conquests and achievements, inscribed for the glorification of some powerful monarch. But the early Greeks, even despots, were free from the kind of self- consciousness which prompted an Assur-bani-pal to draw up a narrative of his deeds; Periander and Peisistratus did not think of securing posthumous fame by such appeals to posterity. Had Peisistratus been an oriental ruler, he would have invited his literary friends to celebrate his own career; being a Greek of his time, he appointed a committee of men of letters to edit the Homeric poems. There were indeed 4 ANCIENT GREEK HISTORIANS lect. some records kept in the seventh century, and perhaps sooner, which at a later time were to prove useful ; but they were bare enumerations of names, such as lists of magistrates or priests. Now it is important to realise that the historical interest of the Greeks of those days, concentrated as it was on the epic traditions, was active and productive. The epics were still growing in the seventh century, though the period of growth was soon to be over. It is almost certain that the Iliad and Odyssey did not reach the fulness of their present compass much before 600 b.c. I need only ask you to recall the lectures which Mr. Gilbert Murray delivered at this University last year; some things he said happen to prepare the way for the consideration of the origins of historiography. He insisted, rightly as I think, on the fact that the groundwork and principal motives of the Homeric epics were historical ; and he showed, with admirable insight, how the development of the poems, in its succes- sive stages, responded to, and reflected, the ideas, manners, and tastes of successive periods. But besides this moral and social criticism which Mr. Murray traced, there was another kind of criticism which betrayed the spirit of historical inquiry. The epics relating to the Trojan war, which existed, let us say, about 800 B.C. in order to fix our ideas, would raise in an inquiring mind many questions as to the course of the war, its final conclusion, the fortunes of many heroes who took I THE EPICS AS HISTORY 5 part in it, — questions to which Homer gave no answer. To quench the thirst for such informa- tion was the office of later poets, who related events which the older bards did not know or assumed as known. They had to fill up interstices and to explain inconsistencies, and this process necessarily entailed a definite consideration of chronological sequence, an element which the original creators of myth do not take into serious account. It is impossible to say how far these later poets of the Homeric school drew upon local legends, how far upon their own invention, but in their hands the traditions of the Trojan expedition and its heroes were wrought into a corpus of Trojan epics, chronologically connected, in which the Iliad and the Odyssey had their places. The new instinct for systematizing tradition gave rise at the same time to the school of genealogical poets, of which Hesiod was the most distinguished and perhaps the first. Their aim was to work into a consistent system the relation- ships of the gods and heroes, deriving them from the primeval beings who generated the world, and tracing thereby to the origin of things the pedigrees of the royal families which ruled in the states of Hellas.^ The interest in genealogies ' Hesiod's Theogony contains a first crude idea of a history of civilisa- tion in the legend of the Five Ages of man, which evidently brings up to date an older version in which the ages were Four. The fanciful notion of marking the degeneration of the race by four ages named after four metals is improved upon by interpolating the age of Homeric heroes before the last or iron age. 6 ANCIENT GREEK HISTORIANS lect. linking actual families with legendary heroes ^ was closely allied to the interest in " origins " connect- ing the foundations of cities with the heroic age. This interest gave rise to a group of what we may call local epics, approximating in style and character to the Hesiodic school, recording the mythical origins (/cTto-et9) and the pedigrees of the founders. We know, for instance, of the Corintkiaca, ascribed to Eumelus, which may have been the source of certain later sections of the Iliad ; ^ of the Naupactian poem ; of the Phoronis which took its name from Phoroneus, reputed the first King of Argos. In all this intellectual activity, we can recognise in a crude form the instinct of historical inquiry, guided by the ideas of consistency and chrono- logical order. The genealogies inevitably brought chronology into the foreground. We can also see that the poets possessed a certain kind of historical sense. They were conscious up to a certain point of the differences between their own civilisation and that of the heroic age, and this consciousness expressed itself in the archaism which we can observe in the Iliad and Odyssey. The poets always retained, for instance, the obsolete bronze armour of antiquity. One epic poem, belonging to the seventh or perhaps the sixth century, claims a special mention ^ In this connexion Mahaffy notes an " anxiety to show hereditary rights in all the usurpers of power throughout early Greek history" {Prose Writers, i. 10), " Cp. Murray, Rise of the Greek Epic, p. 162. I THE EPICS AS HISTORY 7 here, the Arimaspea ascribed to Aristeas of Pro- connesus. The subject of this work was Scythia, which the author seems to have visited, and its importance for our present purpose is that it anticipated the interest in geography and ethno- graphy which, as we shall see, accompanied the rise of history proper. It seems too to have contained a reference to an event of what for Aristeas was modern history, the movement of the Cimmerians in the seventh century, a movement which he very properly explained by the pressure of neighbouring peoples.^ The Arimaspea however is not altogether isolated. A geographical interest is distinctly present in the Odyssey ; M. Berard has illustrated its significance and the historical background. But perhaps it is rather in the ancient Argonautic poems, ranging into the same regions which Aristeas visited, that we may seek the inspiration of the Arimaspea. Up to the middle or end of the sixth century, then, their epic poetry satisfied the historical interest of the Greeks. For us it is mythical, for them it was historical And further, during the later centuries of the epic period, it was becoming quasi-historical in form. The body of traditions was being submitted to crude and rudimentary processes of what we may call historical inquiry. ^ The main authority for Aristeas is Herodotus iv, 13-16 (cp. Macau's notes). The date here (15) assigned, " 240 years ago," is obviously that of the foundation of Cyzicus (c. 680 b.c.) and may be used to fix the com- position of Book IV. to c. 440 b.c. For the guess that Aristeas lived in the sixth century, it may be said that Dionysius, Be Thuc. 23, brackets him with Cadmus ; but this is hardly enough to establish even a presumption. 8 ANCIENT GREEK HISTORIANS lect The later poets of the Homeric school, and the poets of the Hesiodic school, worked in obedience to the need of systematic arrangement and chrono- logical order. There was no absolute chronology, no dates ; but time-sequence determined the com- pletion of the Trojan cycle, and the relation of the Trojan to other cycles (such as the Theban), and, in the very nature of the subject, it controlled the genealogical poems. Scattered and contradictory traditions were harmonized more or less into a superficially consistent picture of the past by the activity of these poets. Their work must have counted for a great deal in both satisfying and stimulating the self-consciousness of the Greeks. § 2. Tfie foundation of history by Hecataeus It might be expected that such an examination of the ancient literature and traditions, though carried out with no under-thought of questioning their truth as a whole, would have sown the germs of criticism and prepared the way for incredulity. This is a difficult question, as our knowledge of this literature is so fragmentary. We can point at least to the notorious scepticism of Stesichorus about the story of Helen. But we can do more. The truth seems to be that towards the end of the epic period there arose in Ionia a spirit which it would be going too far to describe as incredulous, but which was certainly flippant and sceptical and might at any moment break out into positive I RISE OF CRITICISM 9 incredulity. This spirit is revealed, as Mr. Murray- has well shown, in some late parts of the Iliad, especially in the episode of the Beguiling of Zeus ; it appears in the Odyssey in the lay of Demodocus, which tells of the punishment of Ares and Aphrodite by the injured husband Hephaestus. Such tendencies to scepticism, evolved by the Ionian temper, were reinforced by the rise of Ionian science and philosophy. Science and philosophy meant criticism, and it would not be long before criticism which the early thinkers applied to the material world would be systemati- cally applied to human tradition also, and the result would be, in some form or other, the distinction of history from myth. At the same time the mythopoeic instinct of the Greeks was still potent and still felicitous in its operation. But myth assumed a new shape. Supernatural beings no longer appeared upon the stage ; and, with the exception of oracles, omens, and visions, the supernatural mise en scene was discarded. Fictions gathered round historical persons, contemporary or recent, but all these stories, such as the saving of Cypselus, the wooers of Agarista, the ring of Polycrates, kept well within the fence of the possibilities of human experience. They are not in the crude sense incredible, a-rrta-ra Tm Ka0' rjfia^ film. This new order of myths corresponds to a new interest, which we might call the philosophy of life ; it is reflected in the gnomic poetry of the period. Sages have "^ 10 ANCIENT GREEK HISTORIANS lect. taken the place of heroes ; the Septemvirate of AVise jNIen was one of the mythical creations. The authority of Delphi is established beside the authority of Homer, and Delphi seems to have been a centre for fiction of this order. Now let us suppose that before the end of the sixth century a thoughtful man began to reflect upon the past fortunes of the Greeks. He would be struck by the fact that the character of their history had completely changed. The age of the heroes, as described in the epics, was marked by divine interventions, frequent intercourse between gods and men, startling metamorphoses, and all kinds of miracles. How was it that the character of human experience had changed and that such marvels had ceased to happen ? It was inevitable that the question should be asked : can we believe the epic poets and take all they tell us for literal fact ? And we find that before 500 b.c. a philo- sopher of Ionia, Xenophanes, had arraigned the credibility of Homer and Hesiod.^ He rejected the anthropomorphisms of popular theology, and branded the Greek myths as ancient fictions (TrXd- afiara rcov irporepcov). His rationalism was in the interest of cosmic law. He was applying, whether explicitly or not, the principle formulated by later ' It is believed that much about the same time a western Greek, Theajreiies of Rhegium, was attempting to interpret Homer allegorically. According to Tatian, adv. Graecos 31, he flourished in the time of Cambyses ; schol. Ven. to //. T 67 (533 ed. Bekker) he was the first to write on Homer, and he introduced allegorical interpretation ; the schol. on Dionysius Thrax (Bekker, Anecd. Gr. 729) suggests that he dealt with grammar. I HECATAEUS 11 rationalists that what was possible once is possible still, and what is incredible now is incredible always. And he was also concerned, in the cause of ethics, to denounce the attribution to the gods of conduct condemned by the contemporary moral standards of Greece.^ Besides the efforts of Ionian men of science to explain nature by reason, — besides the dawn of philosophy, — there was another fact which con- tributed, in the second part of the sixth century, to widen the horizon of intelligent minds in Ionia, j The power of Persia had been extended to the > Aegean, and the Asiatic Greeks had been incor- 1 porated in the Persian empire. A natural conse- quence was the stimulation of interest and curiosity among those Greeks about the other lands of the great realm to which they were now attached ; and their new position provided facilities for gratifying this curiosity. Oriental geography and history presented to the Greeks a new field of study, and this exercised, as we shall see, an important influ- ence in bringing history to the birth. Its birth is associated with the name of Hecataeus of Miletus. He was, first and foremost, a geo- grapher. I do not dispute the title of Anaxi- mander to be called the " father of geography," but Hecataeus may be considered one of the ^ It is remarkable that Xenophanes wrote two epic poems on quasi- historical subjects — the Origin of his native home Colophon, and the colonisation of his adoptive home Elea ; but no traces of these works have survived. It would be interesting to know how he handled definite traditions. 12 ANCIENT GREEK HISTORIANS lect. founders of geographical science ; his chief con- tributions to knowledge were in that field. Born perhaps near the middle of the sixth century, he not only travelled in Greek lands and on the shores of the Black Sea, but explored the interior parts of the Persian empire, and Egypt, which had been annexed by Cambyses. Perhaps his travels extended to southern Spain. Everywhere he collected facts for a geographical work which was published under the title of a Map of the World. But this work ranged beyond the sphere of pure geography. There is no doubt that it contained, besides descriptions of countries and places, a great deal of ethnography and history, and especially it introduced the Greeks to oriental history and sketched for the first time the successive monarchies of Assyria, Media, and Persia. The writer almost certainly touched upon the Ionian history of his own day, in which he himself played a part. Herodotus, you may remember, mentions advice tendered by Hecataeus to the lonians on more than one occasion, advice which they did not follow. The most likely person to record advice which has not been followed is the adviser ; and we may pretty confidently assume that the source of Herodotus was Hecataeus himself. Hecataeus thus initiated the composition of " modern " history, though only in a work which was geographical in its title and main argument. He also wrote a work on the ancient history of Greece. It was a prose compilation from the genealogical I HECATAEUS 13 epics. But, though its title, Genealogies, shows how potent the influence of the epics was, it was a critical investigation. The opening words are striking and might have stirred a reader to ex- pectancy of a thoroughgoing and drastic revision of what currently passed for the ancient history of Hellas. "What I write here," says Hecataeus, "is the account which I considered to be true. For the stories of the Greeks are numerous, and in my opinion ridiculous." The actual fragments of the work would not enable us to judge to what lengths his scepticism ventured. The few instances of rationalistic interpretation which we can note are of a sufficiently innocent kind, but show us that, while he did not adopt the doctrine of Xenophanes that the myths are fictions, he applied a canon of inner probability. For instance, he explained the hound of Hades which Heracles was related to have dragged up from the under- world, as the name of a terrible serpent which haunted Taenarum. Again, he transported the home of Geryones and his cattle from distant Spain to the more accessible pastures of Epirus.^ But a clearer view of the attitude of Hecataeus may be derived from certain passages in Herodotus to which I shall have to draw attention in the next lecture. We shall then see that his scepticism in regard to the ancient history of the Greeks had ^ It seems probable it was from his geographical work that Herodotus derived the explanation of the legend of the nursing of Cyrus by a female dog, as meaning that he was suckled by a woman named Spako, which signified dog in the Medic language (Pra^ek). k 14 ANCIENT GREEK HISTORIANS lect. been stimulated by the acquaintance he made in Egypt with the historical traditions of the Egyptians. There he made the discovery that in days when gods were supposed to be walking abroad on the hills and in the vales of Hellas, Egypt at the distance of a few days' voyage was managed exclusively by mere human beings. It was an obvious inference that the age of the gods in Greece must be relegated to as remote a date as the age of the gods in Egypt, and that the heroic age of the not very distant ancestors of the existing Greeks must be divested of the supernatural atmosphere with which poetical fable had encom- passed it. We may conclude that the prefatory announcement of Hecataeus was not excessive, and that his rationalism was more complete than the few meagre fragments of the work might lead us to suppose. Hecataeus, as I have said, wrote in prose. His choice of prose was a proof of his competence and a condition of his achievement. But prose had, in all probability, been used already at Miletus for the treatment of a historical subject. The very exist- ence of Cadmus the Milesian has been called in question by some modern critics, and he is certainly a misty figure. The evidence seems to me — though I speak with diffidence — ^to point to the conclusion that he existed, and was one of the earliest prose writers of lonia.^ My idea of Cadmus is that he ^ Chief sources for Cadmus : Dionys. Hal. De Thuc. 23 ; Strabo i. 2. 6; Pliny, N.H. v. 31, vii. 56; Josephus, c. Ap. i. 2; Suidas, sub I HECATAEUS 15 lived in the early part of the sixth century, con- temporary with Anaximander and Pherecydes of Syros, and wrote a book on the Origins of Miletus and other Ionian cities, a work which was notable only because it was written in prose, and not differing in treatment or character from epics like the Corinthiaca and Phorords. This is perhaps the best we can do for the reputation of Cadmus ; he was a very early prose writer or logograpJier^ but there is no reason to suppose that he was more of a historian than Eumelus or Eugammon. The claim of Hecataeus to be the founder of history cannot be disputed in his favour. A logographer, as you know, means a writer of prose, not specially a historian. The early historical literature of the Greeks had no distinctive name. It formed part of the general prose literature which was then springing up in Ionia and which included philosophical and scientific works, and, for instance, the fables of Aesop. In their nomenclature, the Greeks regarded only the nomine. The passages of Strabo and Pliny show that the creation of prose was variously ascribed to Cadmus and Pherecydes (of Syros). This was, of course, the result of Alexandrine investigation. From Dionysius we learn that an extant work which bore the name of Cadmus was strongly suspected of being a fabrication. We may take it for granted that it was spurious, but it seems highly probable that its subject was that of the genuine work which had long since perished. Hence, I think, we may pretty securely accept the information of Suidas (whether derived from the pseudo-Cadmus or from Alexandrine sources) that Cadmus composed ktIctiv MiXt^tov Kal ttjj SXrys 'Iwvlas. From Dionysius we also infer that Cadmus belonged to a distinctly older generation than Hecataeus. The posthumous rivalry between him and Pherecydes for the origination of literary prose points to the first half of the sixth century ; for Anaximander's prose treatise on Nature cannot have been much later than 550 b.c. Cp. Gomperz, Oriechische Denker, i. p. 41. 16 ANCIENT GREEK HISTORIANS lect. difference of form. The epopoioi had now to be distinguished from the logopoioi, the epic poets who composed verse from the logo -poets who composed prose. The logopoioi were also called logographoi, which means exactly the same thing, only emphasizing the fact that they used the pen. Heracleitus and Sophron were as much logographers as Hecataeus. History had at first ' no distinctive name. The term laropir) did not then mean what it came to mean later. Yet, as it was used by the lonians, we may say that it suggested the new element which discriminated the logoi of Hecataeus from the epics (and, as I suggest, from Cadmus). You remember how in Homer a legal dispute is brought before a la-rmp, a man of skill who inquires into the alleged facts and decides what the true facts are. iaroplri meant an inquisition of this kind. We saw that the later epic poets did a certain amount of inquiring and comparing, and, in so far as they did this, they were leading up to history. But in the preface to the Genealogies of Hecataeus the con- ception of a historical inquiry stands revealed. He endeavoured to deal with his data more or less like a Xa-rwp, and to elicit the truth, applying canons of common sense. Of course his methods were unsound ; but in his aim and effort he was a pioneer, and prose, as he saw, was the right vehicle for moving along the new paths which he opened up. The rise of prose was probably a condition of the rise of history ; it is almost inconceivable that I HECATAEUS 17 history could have emerged from its shell if the new vehicle of critical thought had not been there to carry it. It was not indeed a foregone con- clusion that Hecataeus should choose prose. Verse and prose were still rivals, they had not yet clearly differentiated their spheres. If Cadmus had recorded the foundation of Miletus in prose, Xenophanes related the foundation of Colophon in metre. Parmenides was writing verse, while Heracleitus was expressing his deeper thoughts in prose ; it is not insignificant that Heracleitus was incomparably the greater thinker. In the choice of prose the founder of history displayed his insight.^ Both sides of the activity of Hecataeus, the genealogical in which he is a mythographer, the geographical in which he is also a historian, had a far-reaching influence on the development of Greek historiography ; and announce on the very thres- hold its weakness and its strength. In treating their " ancient " history the Greeks were always to remain under the influence of the epics : the sceptre was never to fall from the hands of Homer and Hesiod ; and the historical investigation of early Greece was never to be anything but at best a more or less clarified and arbitrarily rationalised mythography. On the other hand, it was the treatment of Persia and the East in the Geography of Hecataeus that inaugurated "modern" and ^ The fragments do not enable us to appreciate his style. According to Hermogenes {De gen. die. ii. 12) his prose had a charm, but he was less careful in composition than Herodotus. C 18 ANCIENT GREEK HISTORIANS lect. "contemporary" history in wliich the Greeks achieved such high excellence. § 3. Early Mythographers I may take "ancient" history first. The Genealogies of Hecataeus soon led to new works on the same subject. In the next generation Pherecydes of Leros, who settled at Athens, and Acusilaus of Argos — they seem to have flourished before the middle of the fifth century — again served up the epic legends in prose. These writers have no claim to the title of historians ; they were simply mythographers and it would be well always to describe them as such. The work of Pherecydes was distinguished by its comprehensiveness. He modified the traditions for various reasons, but not on any systematic principle. For instance, on chronological grounds he makes Philammon, instead of Orpheus, accom- pany the Argonauts. In order to connect the poet Homer with the poet Orpheus, he invents genealogical intermediaries. The interpolation of links in pedigrees is a feature of his method ; and here he is working simply on the lines, and in | the spirit, of the later epic poets themselves. If he modifies a legend, it is not to rationalise, but \ rather in the interests of popular superstition. The old legend made Apollo slay the Cycl6pes because they furnished Zeus with the thunder- bolts which destroyed Asclepius. Pherecydes makes I MYTHOGRAPHERS 19 him slay not the Cyclopes but the sons of the Cyclopes, evidently to indulge the popular belief that the Cyclopes are still busy with the manu- facture of thunder.^ We may say then that Pherecydes was a systematizer of the epic tradi- tions on conservative lines, contrasting not only with the revolutionary method of Hecataeus, but with the freer treatment of the legends by the Attic tragedians. In Acusilaus we can detect the influence of Hecataeus. He cannot resist the temptation to rationalise up to a certain point. He will not admit, for instance, that Zeus could change him- self into a bull, and so he holds the animal which carried off^ Europa to have been a mere common bull sent by Zeus, not the metamorphosed god. He describes the fleece of Colchis as not golden but purple, and explains that it was empurpled by sea-water. More interesting than these halting concessions to improbable probability is his recon- struction of the causes of the Trojan war. He asked himself why the goddess Aphrodite should have united herself to the Trojan Anchises. Such an occurrence as the union of a goddess with a mortal required a motive. He found it in an oracle that the descendants of Anchises should reign when the kingdom of Priam had fallen. When her son Aeneas grew to manhood, the object of Aphrodite was to bring about the fall * Wilamowitz-MoUendorfF, Isyllos, 65. For the story of Cephalus and Procris as told in the epics, Pherecydes substituted what seems to have been the family tradition of the Cephalidae. Bertscb, Pherek. Studien, p. 2. 20 ANCIENT GREEK HISTORIANS lect. of Priam's dynasty, and for this purpose she caused Paris to fall in love with Helen. Then when Helen had been carried off, she helped the Trojans in order that they might not, in despair at defeat, surrender Helen and save the throne of Priam. The story of the judgment of Paris, which, accord- ing to the Cypria, was the original cause of the war, is thus rejected, and the war is attributed to the ambitious schemes and Machiavellian policy of Aphrodite. This is rationalism of a sort. The accepted view ascribed the cause of a great move- ment to the vanity of a goddess ; Acusilaus, retaining the action of the goddess, explained her motive as political ambition, and so, raising the transaction to a higher level, fancied that he made it more credible. I A later writer, Herodorus of Heraclea, carried the method of Hecataeus much further than Acusilaus. It will be enough to illustrate the character of his mythography by one instance. The legend told that Apollo and Poseidon built the walls of Troy for King Laomedon. According to Herodorus, what really happened was this. Laomedon built the walls in the ordinary way, but he defrayed the expenses by the sacred treasures which had been accumulated in the shrines of Poseidon and Apollo. This is an example of the j method of interpretation by which Herodorus sought to explain away the miraculous.^ ^ Murray has an interesting section on Herodorus in his History of Or«6k Literature, pp. 127 sq. > I MYTHOGRAPHERS 21 The work of Pherecydes then represents a conservative reaction against the ration aUsm of Hecataeus. The compilations of Acusilaus re- present a compromise between rationahsm and conservatism, but leaning heavily to the conserva- tive side. Herodorus took up the rationalistic method of Hecataeus, and developed it further. Reason was a gainer by the work of Hecataeus ; it is a landmark in the progress of criticism ; but the Hecataean method could not advance positive knowledge. It led, beyond Herodorus, to Palae- phatus and Euemerus ; it led ultimately nowhere, and I will not follow it. It was not the mytho- graphers, but the Attic tragedians, whose criticism of mythology was interesting and illuminating, Aeschylus by moralising and Euripides by dis- crediting it. § 4. Early Historians Hecataeus, the historian, as distinguished from the mythographer, had two immediate successors who took up the subject of oriental history in which he had shown the way. Charon of Lamp- sac us ^ composed a history of Persia coming down at least as far as the destruction of the fleet of Mardonius by a storm off Mount Athos in 492 B.C., but probably including the invasion of Xerxes, of which he was in the fullest sense a contem- ^ His Horoi (see below, p, 29) seems to have been published after 465-4 B.C. Compare Schwartz's article in Pauly-Wissowa. I cannot see any proof that the Perdca was merely an excerpt from the H&roi. 22 ANCIENT GREEK HISTORIANS lect. porary.* His narrative was probably brief, but as one of the first historical works which descended to the writer's own age it possessed considerable importance for the growth of historical composi- tion. There was another writer of the same period who was perhaps equally important and treated the same subject as Charon. Dionysius of Miletus likewise wrote a history of Persia which came down to the death of Darius and included the defeat at Marathon. But he followed this up by a continuation which had still greater interest, en- titled The Sequel to the Reign of Dariiis ; which narrated the events of the Persian war.^ Now while these works of Charon and Dio- nysius included very important episodes in the history of Greece, they were properly and formally histories of Persia. The first Greek writers who wrote modern history wrote of Greece only inci- dentally. Their theme was the great empire which had subjugated a part of Greece and attempted to subjugate it all. The circumstance that the writers, who undertook to record the relations of Greece with Persia, conceived those relations as part of the history of the Persian state, had an advantage for the unity of the subject. To write * This is the most natural inference from Dionysius, Letter to Pompey, 3. 7 "EXKhvIkov re koI 'Kdpwvoi t^ aM)P xnrbdeaiv (as Herodotus) irpoeK- SeduKdruf. (The Peraica of Hellanicus cannot have been prior to the composition of Herodotus vii.-ix.) ^ One fragment of Dionysius (Persica) has been preserved, in the scholia on Herodotus (cod. B) iii. 61 (6 fidyoi Hari^eidTji) : Aioyuffioi 6 MtXijfrioj Ilav^ovOr)v 6vofjLiL^€ff6ai tovtov \iyei. See Stein's Herodotus (ed. 1869-71), vol. ii. p. 438. I mention this soUtary fragment, because it does not appear in Miiller's F.ILO. . I CHARON AND DIONYSIUS 23 the history of Greece at almost any period without dissipating the interest is a task of immense diffi- culty, as any one knows who has tried, because there is no constant unity or fixed centre to which the actions and aims of the numerous states can be subordinated or related. Even in the case of the Persian invasion, one of the few occasions on which most of the Greek cities were affected by a common interest, though acting in various ways and from various motives, it facilitated the task of the narrator to polarise the events of the cam- paigns by following the camp of the invader and describing them as part of Persian history, though with Hellenic sympathy. But this method of treatment was a heritage from Hecataeus. The impulse which led to the "Persian" books of Charon and Dionysius came from the geographical work of Hecataeus, and in all probability he was one of their chief guides for oriental history up to the Ionic revolt. There is one other observation I would make about the lost history of Dionysius. He was an Ionian, writing after Ionia had been delivered from the Persian yoke and had entered the confederacy of Delos, with the prospect of becoming dependent on Athens. The history of Ionia had not been brilliant, politically, during the past hundred years. It had been subdued first by Lydia and then by Persia ; it had revolted from Persia and ignomin- iously failed ; it had been compelled to aid its master in attempting to enslave the free Hellenes. 24 ANCIENT GREEK HISTORIANS lect. It held a somewhat undignified position between Persia and free Greece. The Ionian point of view was therefore different, necessarily, from the Spartan or the Athenian ; and the lonians had some reason to feel that their actions were open to misconstruction, and that a role, not too heroic, would gain in their own telling. In any case the story of the Great Invasion told at Miletus would have a considerably different colouring from the same story related at Susa or at Athens. We may reasonably suspect that the history of the war by Dionysius had a value for Ionian self-love ; that it may have done less than justice to the victorious Greeks; but that it probably did more justice to Persia than the enemy would have received from an Athenian writer. This Ionian logos of the Persian war was, we may conjecture, a challenge to unreserved admirers of Athens ; we shall see m the next lecture how such a challenge was taken up. There is another writer of this early school of historians whose name I cannot pass over, the Carian Greek, Scylax of Caryanda. He was employed by Darius to survey the course of the river Indus, and he published an account of his exploration. But he also wrote a work of con- temporary history which centred round the figure of his fellow-countryman, Heracleides, Prince of Mylasae, who deserted the Persian cause and helped the Greeks in the invasion of Xerxes. A chance ray of light has recently been shed on I SCYLAX 25 Heracleides by an Egyptian papyrus, which con- tains a fragment of the work of the historian Sosylus on the Second Punic war.^ This frag- ment relates to a naval action, probably the battle fought at the mouth of the Ebro in 217 B.C. The author illustrates a point in the naval tactics by comparing a certain action of Heracleides which thwarted a Phoenician manoeuvre at the battle of Artemisium. The episode is not mentioned by Herodotus (though he refers to Heracleides else- where) and it probably comes from the work of Scylax.^ How far that work was what could be called biographical we cannot tell, but it is at least noteworthy as the earliest Greek book we know of that made an individual the centre of a historical narrative. We shall not wrong these early historians if we describe them as credulous and uncritical. The able literary critic, Dionysius of Halicarnassus, in whose days many of their works were still in exist- ence, says that their aim was simply to compile and publish traditions and records, " without adding or subtracting anything " ; and he appre- ciates their style as clear, concise, appropriate to the subject, bare of any artificial technique, though not careless or ungraceful.^ ' Edited, interpreted, and discussed by Wilcken, Hermes, xli. pp. 103 sqq., 1906. ^ On this work see Gutschmid, Kleine Schriften, iv, p. 144, who thought it must be part of a large work, and Wilcken, op. cit. pp. 125-6. ' De Thucydide 5. Dionysius distinguishes three chronological groups of historians : (1) Cadmus, whom he associates with Aristeas ; (2) Eugeon, Deiochus, Eudemus, Democles, Hecataeus, Acusilaus, 26 ANCIENT GREEK HISTORIANS lect. The historical impulse initiated by Hecataeus extended after a time beyond Ionia into the neigh- bouring land of Lydia, which had been permeated by Greek culture under the last Lydian kings. The Lydian Xanthus composed in Greek a history of his country for which he used local traditions and perhaps consulted inscriptions in the palace of Sardis.^ But in the development of historiography he is less important than two other writers who, like him, wrote during the latter half of the fifth century, Antiochus of Syracuse and Hellanicus of Lesbos. Antiochus composed a work on the history of the western Greeks. He investigated the early history of Sicily and Italy and the plan- tation of the Greek colonies in those lands. So far he was dealing with the subject of origins, in which the early historians inherited an interest from their epic predecessors, whose legends they supplemented and modified by local traditions. (The epic itself had here a late offshoot in the poem which Panyassis of Halicarnassus produced towards the middle of the fifth century on the colonisation of the Ionian towns.) But the great Charon, Melesagoras (perhaps Aioviaios 6 MtXi^crtos has fallen out after 'EKararoj 6 M.) ; (3) Hellanicus, Damastes, Xenomedes, Xanthus, xai &\\oi ffix^oi. 450 B.C. would roughly mark the division between 2 and 3. The work of Eugeon (Euagon) of Samos was appealed to c. 200 b.c. in a I dispute between Samos and Priene which was decided by Rhodes (see Greek Inscriptions in the British Mtiseum, cccciii. 109, 120). Deiochus wrote a chronicle of Cyzicus. For Democles see Strabo i. 58 and xii. 551; for Damastes, F.H.G. ii. 64-7. The work which passed under the name of (A)melesagorjis {F.H.G. ii. 21) was a fraud : see Wilamowits- Mollendorff, Antigonos von Karystos, p. 24. ^ Gutschmid, Kleine Schri/ten, iv. pp. 307 sqq. I ANTIOCHUS; HELLANICUS 27 significance of Antiochus is that he wrote the modern and contemporary history of an important section of the Greek world. A comprehensive history of western Hellas was a step towards a comprehensive history of Hellas as a whole. His contemporary, Hellanicus of Lesbos, indi- cated, and prepared the way for, a further advance ; and it is important to grasp his significance in our development. It has been usual to classify him with the elder successors of Hecataeus, because he wrote in Ionic Greek and covered practically all the fields which they had covered. But he broke new ground and became, as has been said, "the corner-stone" of the historical tradition of the Greeks. The range of his literary activity was wide. He wrote on the history of Persia ; on the customs of the barbarians ; on the mythical period of Greece ; on the origins of the Greek cities in Asia ; on the later history of Greece and especially the history of Athens. His principal achievement was the construction of a systematic chronology which laid the foundations for subsequent research. The subject of chronology must have been pressed on the attention of Hecataeus, not only by his research into Greek genealogies, but by his study of Egyptian and oriental history. The Greeks had not yet invented any method of chronicling events. They had, as we saw, no chronological records, except lists of names, like those of the priestesses of Hera at Argos, of the archons at Athens, of the priests of Poseidon at 28 ANCIENT GREEK HISTORIANS lect. Halicarnassus. It was only rarely that a name in these lists would yield the precise date of an event, such as the archonship of Solon which supplied at once the date of his reforms. Beyond these very barren records the only data were the genealogies. These furnished a very rough method of reckoning periods of time by generations. But there must have been considerable perplexity how the genera- tion-unit should be calculated in terms of years. Ultimately it became usual to reckon three generations as equivalent to a hundred years, so that the unit was roughly 33 years. But there are early traces of another system which equated the generation with 23 years, ^ a principle which would yield widely different results. There was another system based on 40 years. It is probable that Hecataeus reckoned generally with genera- tions, and not years, as his units, for the more distant past. But for " modern " history he had valuable auxiliary data of a precise kind. The oriental monarchies had an exact method of reckon- ing by means of the regnal years of the kings, and records of events dated in this way were preserved. These dates at once supplied synchronisms with events in Greek history and fixed a number of chronological landmarks, such as the capture of Sardis. But it is not likely that chronology was treated by Hecataeus more carefully or methodi- cally than by Herodotus ; its fundamental import- ance was not realised till later. ^ See Herodotus i. 7 : 22 generations = 505 years. I HELLANICUS 29 The problem which Hellanicus undertook was to reconstruct a complete chronicle of Greek history, with the help of the genealogies, lists such as that of the Athenian archons, and the oriental dates. It is possible that attempts had been made to work out this highly speculative problem already. Charon had compiled a book called the H&roi of Lampsacus. It is generally assumed to have been a local history or chronicle of his native city. But the fragments suggest that it had a wider range than the affairs of Lampsacus. Perhaps the work consisted of annals, dated by yearly magistrates of Lampsacus, but recording, as well as local events, other events also of general historical interest. We have a parallel in a vast number of medieval chronicles which possess at once a local and a general side. Annals of Paderborn, for instance, take special account of Paderborn affairs, but also record the general history of the Western Empire. This is only a conjecture,^ and in any case it was reserved for Hellanicus, even if he had the help of previous attempts, to achieve the construction of a chronicle which in its main lines found general acceptance, and influenced the course of subsequent chronological study. He made the list of the Argive priestesses of Hera the framework of his general chronicle of Greece.^ He also compiled a special chronicle of Attic history, in which events were naturally arranged under the archon years ^ Of Seeck ; see Klio iv. pp. 289-90. We have no data to conjectixre the scope of Eugeon's Horoi of Samos. ' Kullmer refers p. 52 to the Ambracian-Acamanian war of 429 b.c. 80 ANCIENT GREEK HISTORIANS lect. from the year 683-2 onward. In its first form, this work came down to the year 411. After the termination of the Peloponnesian war the author continued it to 404 B.c.^ The notices of events were brief, but it was not without a certain poli- tical colouring, evincing sympathy with Athenian democratic patriotism. Without entering upon a minute criticism of the method of Hellanicus, it is enough to say that, mistaking the character of mythical traditions, he erected an ingenious edifice on foundations which had no solidity. The most perfect genealogies could not even approximately determine absolute dates ; and the genealogies were full of inconsist- encies which had to be overcome by arbitrary interpolations and manipulations. Moreover, quite recent events, which had not been recorded at the time, might present almost insuperable difficulties to a chronographer. One case, which we can control, will illustrate how dangerous the procedure of HeUanicus was. If he had consulted a certain inscription, which we are fortunate enough to have recovered, he could have found that several military events which he chronicled occurred in the same archonship, corresponding to the latter half of 459 B.C. and the former half of 458 B.C. Ignorant of this authentic evidence, he distributed these events over three archonships.^ Yet these events * See Lehmann-Haupt in Klio vi. pp. 197 sqq. Apollodorus used the earlier edition. 2 We can be virtually certain that the chronology of Ephorus and Diodorus for the period of the Fifty Years depended on Hellanicus, so far I HELLANICUS 81 must have happened within his own hfetime. His whole chronology of the thirty-five years after the Persian war was arbitrary ; and it illustrates how in the absence of records pre- cise chronology is hopeless. The instance of error which I have given suggests another observation. There were numerous stones at Athens, officially inscribed and precisely dated, from which, if they were all preserved, a modern student would probably construct without difficulty and with absolute certainty an exact chronicle of Athenian history in the fifth century. But it never occurred to Hellanicus to look for them, and in this he was only like most other Greek historians. The Greeks used such records when/^ they came across them, but as a rule they did not seek them out systematically. Was the labour of deciphering them too laborious ? It is remarkable that Thucydides describes a sixth-century inscrip- . tion, which he quotes, as written "in faint char- ) acters " ; yet a portion of that same inscription which has survived seems to a modern epigrapher quite clear, after more than two thousand years. When we realise the nature of the data and the methods of the first chronologists whose ingenious constructions determined the received tradition, we shall hardly be prepared to dispute the con- as Ephorus may not have modified it by the indications of Thucydides. For Thucydides and Hellanicus seem to have been the only fifth-century historians who recorded that period. Diodorus distributes over the years 460-59, 459-8, 458-7 events in Egj-pt, at Halieis, and Aegina, and Megara, which, the well-known Erechtheid stone {CI. A. i. 433) instructs us, occurred in the same civil year (459-8). 32 ANCIENT GREEK HISTORIANS lect, elusion at which Mahaffy arrived more than twenty-five years ago, that there are no well- estabhshed exact dates in Greek history before the seventh century.^ For the seventh and even for the sixth there are only a few. Nay, we can hardly say that a clear and definite chronicle begins before 445 B.C., the year of the Thirty Years' Peace. It is to be deplored that the early historians failed to realise how desirable it was to reckon time by a fixed chronological era. The practical 1 Romans dated historical events from the Founda- tion of the City. The Greeks might have adopted, for instance, the year of the invasion of Xerxes. They could have dated Before and After, Trph rSiv MtjSikwv and fiera ra MijBiKa, as we do with our era. But the most natural, and perhaps the best, chronological starting-point would have been the Trojan war. It did not matter in the least that the actual date of that event could not be known with certainty, so long as a definite year was fixed upon. Our era is not the true date of the Nativity; the true date cannot be ascertained ; but this does not affect the utility of the conventional era. Now as a matter of fact the Trojan war was occasion- ally used, as a sort of reference date, by fifth- century historians,^ and it is much to be regretted that Hellanicus did not systematically adopt this ^ The subject of the early list of Olympian victors, constructed by Hippias of Elis without trustworthy data, has recently been discussed by A. Korte {Hermes xxxix. pp. 224 sqq., 1904), who confirms in essential points the conclusions of Mahaffy. 2 Herodotus ii. 145 ad fin. I HELLANICUS 88 method of reckoning. The years of magistrates or priests are not only clumsy, but convey no chronological idea. For it is to be observed that when dates are expressed by cardinal numbers proceeding from a fixed year, not only is calculation simplified, but the numbers present to the mental vision a clear historical perspective. But recognising the defects both in the mechan- ism and in the methods of Hellanicus, who attempted the impossible, we must give him credit for having framed the ideal of a chronological system which should embrace all the known facts of history ; and if he established many erroneous dates, it is probable that he also rescued some that were correct. § 5. Summary To sum up. (1) The historical study of their past by the Greeks arose out of the epic tradition and was a continuation of the work of the later epic poets. The tradition of the Homeric and Hesiodic poets maintained its control to the end. What we would designate as the post-mythical or historical period overlapped by means of gene- alogies with the mythical period ; the existing families of Greece were connected in line of blood with the heroes and thereby with the gods. The genealogical principle, lying at the base of their historical reconstruction, hindered the Greeks from drawing a hard and fast line between the mythical and the historical age. The historians D 34 ANCIENT GREEK HISTORIANS lect. who approached the subject never got beyond criticism of details and rationalistic interpretation of miracles. But (2) at the very time when the study of mythological tradition began to assume a more critical character, the interest of the Greeks expanded to the "modern" history and institu- tions of non-Greek states, and here they were in a region not mythical, but historical. This intel- lectual movement originated in Ionia ; its main cause was the Persian conquest, and the resulting contact of Ionian thinkers with oriental history. The rise of Ionian science not only promoted the spirit of criticism, but also created an interest in geography, for the study of which the new political status of Ionia furnished opportunities ; but it was principally the new vision of oriental history that brought to birth Greek historiography. It was from the "modern" history of the East that the Greeks went on to study the "modern" history of Hellas. And the struggle with Persia in the first twenty years of the fifth century impelled them to begin to write histories of their own time. Further, as I will attempt to show more fully in the next lecture, their contact with the traditions of non-Greek lands within the Persian empire suggested to the Greeks a new kind of criticism of their own mythical traditions. In all three fields of ancient, modern, and contemporary history, as well as in the allied sphere of geography, Hecataeus was a pioneer ; his originality lay in responding to the stimulus from the non-Greek world. I SUMMARY 85 The work of Hellanicus, who conceived the idea of a general history of Greece and laid the slippery foundations of its chronology, has brought us to a date from which we shall have to retrace our steps to examine the work of a greater writer than any of those who have claimed our attention to-day. We have only considered those points of light, obscured by time, which form the Ionian constella- tion ; we have yet to examine a star of the first magnitude which is still as luminous as ever. Herodotus (we must not call him an Ionian) wiU be the subject of the next lecture. LECTURE II HERODOTUS In the last lecture the necessities of our subject obliged us to consider works of which only scraps have survived, and of which we can form only dim ideas by groping methods, although we may feel tolerably confident as to the general character and value of the literature to which they belong. The names of their authors are forgotten by the world, and their chief function now is to tantalise the special student of literature or history. To-day we come to a work which time has not been allowed to destroy or diminish. Of the life of Herodotus, son of Lyxes, of Halicarnassus, we know hardly anything except 'what may be gleaned from his own statements. • Bom early in the fifth century, he left his birth- place before 454 b.c., banished by Lygdamis the tyrant, who put his cousin Panyassis, the epic poet, to death. He stayed apparently for some time in Samos, and then went to Athens, whence he proceeded to Italy as one of the first citizens of the new colony of Thurii (443 B.C.). He sur- vived the first years of the Peloponnesian war 36 LECT. II HERODOTUS 37 (431-0 B.c.^). Into this framework we have to fit his travels, which included the coasts of the Euxine, Babylon, Phoenicia, Egypt, and probably Cyrene. It is not necessary to discuss the dis- puted subject of the chronology of his journeys. I need only say that his most important journeys, those to Babylonia and Egypt, were probably undertaken in the later period of his life, while he was a citizen of ThuriL The years which elapsed between his banishment from his native city and his departure for his new home seem to have been spent in Greece, perhaps chiefly at Athens, and to have been devoted, as we shall see, to investigating and composing the story of the invasion of Xerxes. Though he may naturally have visited Athens again, on his way to or from the East, there is no evidence to entitle us to presume, as some have thought, that he deserted Thurii permanently and dwelled at Athens during the last years of his life.^ The argument of his history is a. pflrrativp nf the relations between the Greeks and the oriental PQwers from the accession of Croesus to the capture of Sestos in 478 b.c. — a " modern " history in the fullest sense of the term. The division into nine Books is not due to the author himself, for ^ There are passages which cannot have been written before 431-0 B.C. vii. 233 (cp. Thucydides ii. 2) and ix. 73 (cp. Thuc. ii. 23) imply 431 B.C. ; vii. 137 (cp. Thuc. ii. 67) implies 430 b.c Cp. alsoiii. 160 ; and v. 77. The reference to Artaxerxes in vi. 98 does not imply that the words were written after his death (425 b.c.) ; cp. Macan's note ad loc. ^ Compare the pertinent remarks of Wachsmuth, Rheinisches Museum^ Ivi. 215-8 (1901). 38 ANCIENT GREEK HISTORIANS lect. in his day such divisions had not yet come into fashion. But the Alexandrine editor who was responsible for it was a man of extraordinary insight. His distribution perfectly exhibits the construction of the book and could not be im- proved by any change. But it can be rendered more perspicuous by observing that_eaeh_Qf_the nine Borjll-iS- truly a fiub-div^RJon and thnt thft ^ primary partition is a threefold one.^ The work falls naturally into three sections, each consisting of three parts. The first section^ or triad of Books, comprises the reigns of Cyrus and Cambyses, and the accession of Darius ; the second deals with the reign of Darius ; the third with that of Xerxes. The first is mainly concerned with Asia including Egypt ; the second with Europe ; the third with Hellas. The first displays the rise and the triumphs of the power of Persia ; the last relates the defeat of Persia by Greece ; while the middle triad represents a chequered picture, Persian failure in Scythia and at Marathon, Greek failure in Ionia. And each of the nine sub- divisions has a leading theme which constitutes a minor unity. C}tus is the theme of the first Book, Egypt of the second, Scythia of the fourth, the Ionian rebellion of the fifth, Marathon of the sixth. The seventh describes the invasion of Xerxes up to his success at Thermopylae ; the eighth relates the reversal of fortune at Salamis ; the final triumphs of Greece at Plataea and Mycale ' This has been well brought out by Macan. II HERODOTUS 39 occupy the ninth. In the third alone the unity is less marked ; yet there is a central interest in the dynastic revolution which set Darius on the throne. Thus the unity of the whole composition sharply displays itself in three parts, of which each again is threefold.^ The simplicity with which this architectural symmetry has been managed, with- I] out any apparent violence, constraint, or formality, ^ was an achievement of consummate craft. The^ writer's management of the digressions, for which j he is notorious, is hardly less striking^ exhibiting a rare skill in the choice of the best and perhaps the only fitting places to stow away loose material he wished to make use of. ^t, perfect q.s ig the architectural unity of the work of Herodotus, it would seem that the plan as it was finally carried out was not conceived when he commenced to write, and that the unity was achieved not in conformity to a design thought out from the beginning, but by a process of expansion due to an after-thought. There is a variety of internal evidence which points con- vincingly to the conclusion that the last three Books were composed before the first six, and there are indications that he wrote this portion between 456 and 445 B.C., before he began his travels.^ The natural in^tprence is that he origin- ally contemplated no mere than a history of the ^ In the last part the unity is much more marked than the triplicity ; in fact, the division of Book vn. from Book viii. is somewhat arbitrary, ^ The most complete appreciation of the evidence will be found in the Introduction to Macau's ed. of Herodotus, vii.-ix, (§ 7 and § 8). 40 ANCIENT GREEK HISTORIANS lect. invasion of Xerxes ; and that it was in the course of his travels that he conceived the idea of a larger work, of which the " Invasion of Xerxes " should form the finale. The idea doubtless shaped itself gradually ; and the first six Books were not composed in the order in which they stand. But the author has worked with such skill that only a searching analysis has detected the series of facts which demonstrate the priority / of the last three Books ^ and make it clear that the Persian war was his original inspiration^.,^ At whatever moment the idea of expanding his original history to its fuller compass presented itself, whether it was suggested by his journeys or prompted him to become a traveller, it was certainly connected closely with his travels, and the occurrence of long geographical excursus is one of the most striking features of the expansion. So strongly marked indeed is the geographical element, so long are the geographical sections, in the work of Herodotus, that some critics have been led to think that considerable parts of it were originally intended to form part of a ^ Some few additions were made subsequently : thus in vii. 93 and 1 08 there are references to passages in the books which are earlier in order but were later in composition. It is probable that the whole work never received a final revision, and this would be sufficient to explain the unful- filled promise of vii. 213, which is the insufficient but only real argument for the hypothesis that the ninth Book is not complete. [How gratuitous this hypothesis is, Macan shows at length, ib. § 6. ] On the other hand it seems not improbable that Herodotus intended to include in the early portion of his work a summary of Babylonian history {'A(xa-vpioi \6yoi) i this seems to me more likely than that in i. 106 and 184 he is referring to another work. II HERODOTUS 41 geography, and were afterwards incorporated iiL his history. There is nothing that compels us to adopt a hypothesis of this kind. Association with geography was a characteristic of the early historical literature of the Greeks, and these excursus in Herodotus attest the influence of the Hecataean school, and were natural in the work of a historian who was himself a traveller^ And it is worth observing that when he was writing, both Egypt and Scythia, the subjects of his longe^r historico -geographical digressions, had a particular practical interest for the Athenians ; and of the Greek public it was unqjiestionably tlie Athenians to whom thg historian d^^igngd his work pre-eminently to ap,p£a]L I need only remind you of the Athenian adventure in Egypt in the middle of the fifth century and of the voyage of Pericles in the Euxine Sea. It has even been conjectured that this Periclean expedi- tion (444 B.C.) was the occasion of the historian's visit to the Pontic regions. However this may be, it is not insignificant, in judging these digres- sions, that Egypt and Scythia possessed, at the time Herodotus wrote, an interest of a political kind, subordinate indeed to that of Persia, but distinctly actual. It is also to be noted that the digressions in general had an artistic justification. They are an epic feature, deliberately designed ; ^ one of the epic notes of the work. Homer was the literary ^ He says expressly that irpo_ portents, or dreams. But any further converse of gods with men, any divine appearances alleged to have happened in recent times, Herodotus is not prepared to accept, though he is never dogmatic. His philosophy was not strong enough to deny that the gods had ever carried on the sort of intercourse with men that is described in the epics, or generated human progeny; for his ultimate line between the divine and the human was not fast. But it was a great comfort for common sense and everyday experience, to push the age in which such things could happen as far back as possible. Herodotus reveals unmistak- ably his incredulity about all the mythical wonders in which, according to tradition, ancestors of living people, some fifteen or twenty generations back, played bright or shady parts. He accepted the genealogies, but when he got to Perseus or Heracles, he did not regard them as sons of a god. II HERODOTUS 47 Heracles is the son of Amphitryon, Helen is the daughter of Tyndareus. Sometimes he relates legends or tells tales involving superhuman agency, but he never takes any responsibility for them, and occasionally treats them with delicate irony. He mentions a legend of the Thessalians that the ravine through which the Peneius makes its way to the sea was wrought by Poseidon. "Their tale is plausible ; and any one who thinks that Poseidon shakes the earth and that clefts produced by earthquakes are the works of that god, would on seeing this mountain-ravine ascribe it to Posei- don. For it appeared to me to be the result of an earthquake." Gibbon might have taken lessons in the art of irony from Herodotus as well as from Pascal. Consider again the admirable caution with which he speaks of the divine snake said to live on the Athenian Acropolis. " The Athenians say that a great snake lives in the Sanctuary as guardian of the citadel ; and they present a honey- cake every month as to a creature existing " (w? iovTi). This commits him to nothing. But though disposed to accept only what experience led him to regard as possible, in any given case, Herodotus, as I have said, did not draw theoretically a hard and fast line between the human and the divine ; and he did not_reject_as ridiculous the notion tha^t_qne_time^pds moved vTsibly on tHe earth and consorted with men. WHy then"^id^ he r^ect the divine parentage of heroes like Heracles and Perseus ? It is important 48 ANCIENT GREEK HISTORIANS lect. to comprehend the reason for this scepticism which he derived from Hecataeus. I touched on this point in the first lecture. It was not due to the canons of Ionian science or to the influence of Ionian philosophy. It was due to the study of comparative mythology which had opened for Hecataeus a new perspective of the world's history. The Egyptian studies which Herodotus pursued in the footsteps of the Milesian traveller taught him that human history in that country went back for thousands of years before the age of the gods was reached. The Egyptians, for instance, had a god corresponding to Heracles, and they reckoned that 17,000 years had elapsed since he had appeared in Egypt Hence the conclusion which Herodotus accepts that there was an ancient god Heracles, but that he must be sharply distinguished from the human son of Amphitryon, ancestor of the Heracleidae.^ The Greek tradition that the age in which gods walked the earth was still current some eight or nine hundred years ago could not be true. For even apart from the suggestions of compara- tive mythology, it was inadmissible to suppose that while Egypt was in a prosaic age of mere men, Greece was trodden by deities and the scene of miracles ; and the Egyptian tradition was vouched for by records. The argument demolished the received mythology of the heroic age so far as it was superhuman. ^ Similarly Pan son of Penelope, Dionysus son of Semele, are to be distinguished from the synonymous gods. II HERODOTUS 49 Herodotus deserves credit for having accepted the argument, to which contemporary writers like Pherecydes were deaf; and if he asks pardon from the gods and heroes for his boldness, this does not mean that he felt hesitation or reluctance ; it was merely an insincere and graceful genuflexion. He was doing what a Christian preacher sometimes does, when having delivered an extremely heterodox sermon he winds up with a formal homage to orthodox dogma. Herodotus is extremely cour- ±eous, perhaps ironically courteous, to both parties. He says, as it were, to the gods and heroes, " Please, do not be angry with me, — supposing you to exist. But at this time of day, you know, one must really draw the line somewhere." On the other hand he says to the infidels who disbelieve in oracular prophecy, " I know you will think me credulous. But still in this case the evidence is so remarkably clear that I do not see my way to resisting it."^ The mythological argument, how- ever, of which I am speaking was not due to Herodotus himself. He may have put it in his own way, and added some points, but he owed it, as I have said, to Hecataeus. It has long been recognised that his description of Egypt is not an original work, put together exclusively from his \.e.o^-^ own observations and inquiries, but largely repro- duces the account which Hecataeus had given in his Map of the World. When Herodotus visited Egypt, he doubtless had the book of 1 Cp. viii. 7T. 1: 50 ANCIENT GREEK HISTOUIANS lect. Hecataeus with him, and used it like a barrister's brief for cross-examining the temple-servants and guiding him in his investigations. He added corrections and new information, but the great Ionian supphed the groundwork. He does not say so ; he does not acknowledge his debt to Hecataeus ; for, as you know, the ancients had very different views from the moderns about literary obligations. It was not the fashion or etiquette to name your authorities except for some special reason, — for instance, to criticize them, or to display your own learning ; and you were not considered a plagiarist if you plundered somebody else's work without mentioning his name. Heca- taeus brought out the importance of the Nile by the striking phrase that Egypt was the gift of the river ; Herodotus adopts the phrase as if it were his own. One of the most convincing tests by which suspected plagiarism can be established is the occurrence of the same mistakes. Now Hero- dotus reproduces the errors which Hecataeus had committed about the hippopotamus. But there are a whole series of points in which we can trace the contact between the two writers in regard to Egypt. As for the mythology, we are left in no doubt because Herodotus names Hecataeus in this connexion. " When Hecataeus was in Thebes he told his pedigree to the priests and connected him- self with a god in the sixteenth generation. And the priests did to him what they did to me, though / did not relate my pedigree. They took him into II HERODOTUS 51 the hall of the temple and showed him wooden statues of the high priests. The high priesthood descends from father to son, and each high priest sets up his own statue in his lifetime. They counted 345 statues, and they set this genealogy against that of Hecataeus, but they did not derive Jtheir pedigree from a god or a hero.J]^^ The author's motive in naming his predecessor here is, obviously, to rally him for having "given himself away" by stating his own genealogy and divine ancestry to the priests. "/ was not so incautious " is the implication. But we have no right to infer that Hecataeus had not already drawn the sceptical conclusions which Herodotus explains. The sceptical words with which Heca- taeus introduced his Genealogies show that he was not deaf to the lessons in history which he learned in Egyptian temples. His very expression, when he says that " the logoi of the Hellenes are absurd," not "the stories of the poets," suggests the con- trast of non-Hellenes whose logoi he had compared. The distinction of what the Greeks say from what the Persians, Phoenicians, or Egyptians say often recurs in Herodotus, and is an echo, I believe, from Hecataeus.^ But we have another proof. Herodotus cites the Egyptian priests as dating the age of the gods in relation to the reign of 1 ii. 143. "^ When Herodotus cites what ol "EXXtj^s j say, it is sometimes assumed that he means Hecataeus (or some other Ionian writer). In that case he would have said 61 "Iwces. He is really quoting criticisms of Hecataeus on orEXXijj'es, that is, on the current mythology of epic tradition. 52 ANCIENT GREEK HISTORIANS lectt. Amasis. As the visit of Hecataeus to Egypt would have fallen not long after the death of Amasis, the dating indicates that Herodotus was copying the statement of Hecataeus. The note of scepticism, perhaps we may say the characteristic note of Ionian scepticism, is struck in the first paragraphs of the Herodotean work. It opens with the statement of a theory that the wars of the Greeks and Persians were the mani- festation of a secular antagonism between Asia and Europe — what our English historian. Freeman, was fond of calling the Eternal Question. This at least is the abstract way we should formulate the tenor of the statement which I may abbreviate as follows : — " The quarrel began thus : Phoenician traders carried off from Argos lo the king's daughter. Subsequently Greek adventurers from Crete carried off the princess Europa from Tyre. The next aggression came from the Greek side, when the Argonauts ravished Medea from Colchis. The Asiatic reply to this outrage was the rape of Helen by Paris. The Trojan war which followed generated in Asia a feeling of hostility to the Greeks, and the Persian war was the ultimate issue of this feeling." But the theory was not originated by Herodotus. He disavows all respon- sibility. It was a theory of the Persians, he tells us, and he states it only to set it aside in his ironical way. The whole passage reads as if it might be the condensation of a friendly discussion between a f^ II HERODOTUS 53 Greek and a Persian as to the responsibility for the Persian war. It was undeniable that the Persians and not the Greeks had been the aggres- sors ; the conquest of Ionia by Cyrus had been the beginning. The Persian advocate could only remove the blame from Asia by going farther back. The summary I gave of the argument does not reproduce its flavour, and I will take the liberty of throwing it into the form of a dialogue. Persian. The Greeks had no business in Asia. They belong to Europe, and they should have stayed there. Their expedition against Troy was the first trespass ; it began their encroachments on a continent which belongs to Asiatic peoples of whom the Persians are the heirs. Greek. Oh, but you are forgetting that on that occasion the Trojans were the offenders ; Paris carried off Helen. Persian. That was no sufficient reason ; but even if it were, the act of Paris was only a reprisal for the Greek crimes of carrying off Medea and Europa. And the Asiatics were far too sensible to make a causa belli of such fooHsh elopements. Greek. Well, if you go back so far, you must go back farther still. What about the rape of lo from Argos ? Persian. Well, yes, I admit it. That was a Phoenician business, and we Persians must allow that the Phoenicians began the mischief, though we hold you really responsible, through your folly 54 ANCIENT GREEK HISTORIANS lect. in taking such an affair seriously. Only fools would make war on account of such escapades. Men of the world know that, if these women were carried off, they were not more reluctant than they sl^ould be.^ Evidently we have here an invention of Ionian esprit. The nature of the argument, dealing as it does entirely with Greek legend, shows that the Persian was a fictitious disputant ; and the attribu- tion of the theory to a Persian is an effect of literary subtlety quite in the manner of Voltaire. Though Herodotus thought little of this specula- tion about ancient wrongs, he seems to have taken it as seriously meant. " Whatever we think about all this," he says, " I will begin with the first Eastern monarch who undoubtedly committed injustice! against Greece, Croesus, who subdued Ionia withouti provocation." But it is highly significant that hei should place in the portals of his work a speculation i which set mythical tradition in a ridiculous light, y The passage I have discussed is one of several that evince those acute tendencies in the Hellenic mind which culminated in the movement of the Sophists. For instance, the story of the wife of Intaphernes. She chose to save her brother rather than her husband or children, on the ground that husband and children might be replaced but she could never have another brother. That is a clever Ionian subtlety ; there is no reason to suppose that it was invented in the period of the Sophists. Or * Plutarch, Ilepi t-^j 'Upobbrov KUKorjOdas, 2, takes this quite seriously. fr^ u HERODOTUS 55 take the demonstration of the power of custom by Darius. He dismayed some Greeks by the ques- tion what they would take to eat their dead fathers, and then equally horrified some Indians of a tribe who ate dead parents, by asking them how much they would take to cremate theirs. The immense power of custom was an observation redolent of the age of the Wise Men ; . Pindar, whom Herodotus quotes, designated Custom as king of the world ; and the idea afterwards became the basis of sophistic theories. The story quoted by Herodotus is a drastic Ionian illustration. Again, the famous discussion of the comparative merits of democracy, aristocracy, and monarchy by the seven Persian conspirators who overthrew the false Smerdis, belongs also to pre-sophistic specu- lation. It is obviously a fiction ; for the discussion was appropriate in the Greek world, but was quite out of place in Persia. But it was not a fiction of Herodotus, for he states expressly (careful though he generally is not to commit himself) that these opinions were really uttered by the Persian noble- men, although some of the Greeks consider this incredible. The historian was taken in, just as he was taken in by the persiflage about the rapes of the fair women of legend. There can hardly be much doubt that some publicist threw his re- flexions on the comparative merits of constitutions into the shape of this historical deliberation. The distinction of three fundamental types of constitu- tion is older than the period of the Sophists ; it is X 56 ANCIENT GREEK HISTORIANS lect. recognised in an ode of Pindar not later than 473 B.C., and it was then probably a commonplace.^ We may suspect that we have to do with some publication of the first half of the fifth century. Now there is one feature common to these passages. Greek ideas and reflexions are trans- ferred to an Eastern setting or connected with Persian history. Their origin was assuredly Ionian.^ They betray the naive interest of the lonians in their masters, and show the Greek mind projecting its own reflexions into a world of which it had only a half-knowledge, with the instinct of making that world more interesting and sym- pathetic.^ But I must return to the scepticism of Herodo- tus. I have already observed that in the historical post - Homeric period the mythopoeic faculty of the Greeks did not slumber, but myth now took the form of the historical anecdote, or, as the Germans call it, " historische Novelle." Here » Pyth. ii. 87-8. ^ The clear allusion of Otanes, in his defence of democracy, to the Athenian constitution under the lot-system does not necessitate by any means an Athenian origin. — It may be conjectured that the peculiar privileged position which Otanes and his descendants were said to have held in the Persian realm suggested the idea of transferring this singularly Hellenic discussion to Susa. Otanes, it is said, was exempted from sub- jection to the kings because, though he was the leading organizer of the conspiracy, he resigned all claims to the throne which Darius secured. He was thus neither ruler nor subject, an anomalous position which in Greece had a sort of parallel in the membership of a democracy. Hence the suggestion that Otanes believed in democracy, and, when he did not convince his fellow-conspirators, obtained for himself personally and his family the freedom which a democracy bestows. ' I have been here expressing dissent from the view of some critics that the passages enumerated indicate sophistic influence. I II HERODOTUS 57 they showed consummate felicity in constructing stories with historical background, historical actors, historical motives, and possessing, many of them, a perpetual value because they are seasoned with worldly wisdom and enshrine some criticism of life. These tales differ from the old myths not only in the tendency to point a moral, but also in the circumstance that for the most part they do not- involve physical impossibilities, though they may imply highly improbable coincidences, or what we may call psychical or political impossibilities. The work of Herodotus is richly furnishec^ with these tales ; he had a wonderful flair for a good„story_; and the gracious garrulity with which he tells his- torical anecdotes is one of the charms which will secure him readers till the world's end. Gibbon happily observed that Herodotus "sometimes writes for children and sometimes for philo- sophers " ; the anecdotes he relates often appeal to both. T^p acn^ptg thf^jTa generally at their fac^ value. fl.nd m^ost of them have been taken as more or^less literally true till very recent times. The story of the intercourse between Croesus and Solon was rejected as fiction only because it seemed impossible to reconcile it with chronology.^ But we are now more sceptical about good stories of this type, and we have come to see how often they ^ It may be held, however, that this is still an open question. A fragment of an anonymous Dialogue, discovered by Grenfell and Hunt {Oxyrhynchus Papyri, iv. No. 664), represents Solon as in Ionia when Peisistratus became tyrant (560 b.c). If this were so, the meeting with Croesus would become chronologically possible. 58 ANCIENT GREEK HISTORIANS lect. are wrought upon, or woven into, some ancient motify which is adapted to a historical setting. The tale of the funeral pyre of Croesus sprang from the burning of the Assyrian god Sandan ; it was an up-to-date version of the legend of Sar- danapalus. The story of the ring of Polycrates turns on an old motive, the finding of something lost in a fish's belly, but its point in connexion with Polycrates has been explained only the other day. The casting of the ring into the sea was symbolic of thalassocracy ; it was the same mythical ring as that of Minos, which in the poem of Bacchylides Theseus sought in the halls of Amphitrite ; its recovery was fatal to the ruler of the seas.^ Herodotus is the Homer of this later form of historical myths, in which the supernatural machinery consisted of oracles or significant dreams or marvellous coincidences. They corre- sponded to his wavering standard of the credible >^4ip,nd probable, which generally excluded what * seemed physically impossible. For instance, he 1 ^ positively refuses to believe that statues assumed -^a sitting posture.^ He duly records the story that a certain man dived under water a distance of >..>^§everal miles. It was the privatp npinioy) of -^Herodotus that that man fl-rrive^ '^^ « boatL. * S. Reinach, " Xerxes et I'Hellespont," in the Revue arch6ologique, b€v. 4, vol. vi. pp. 1 sqq., 1905. The symbolic marriage of the Doges of Venice with the Hadriatic is the same story, and Reinach also finds the same tno^j/ underlying the story of Xerxes and the Hellespont (Herod, vii. 35) and the rite practised by the Phocaeans, ib. i; 165, and by the lonians, Aristotle. 'M. ir. 23. " V. 86. 8 yiii. 8. II HERODOTUS 59 Perhaps the story of the miraoiiloii.s fifiliveranrp.of Delphi fi-om the Persians ^ may be taken to illustrate the ill -defined limits of his faith. Their oracle declared to the Delphian priests that the god would himself provide for the safety of his sanctuary, and when the Persians came they were repelled, with great havoc, by lightning and by the fall of huge boulders from Parnassus. Herodotus relates this without any hint of scepticism, though he em- phasizes the miraculous nature of the events. Now you observe that there is nothing impossible in the alleged physical occurrences ; the marvel lies in the opportunity of the coincidence and the fulfilment of the oracular announcement. Against a marvel of this order Herodotus had no prejudice. But another miracle was said to have happened on the same occasion. Certain sacred arms, which were preserved within the shrine and were too sacred to be profaned by human touch, were suddenly discovered lying in a heap in front of the temple. A rationalist — Euripides, for instance — would find no difficulty in such an occurrence, assuming the fact to be certain. Herodotus accepts it as a genuine marvel, without any suggestion that human agency, notwithstanding Delphic asseverations to the contrary, might have been concerned in the matter ; and the notable thing is that he considers it less wonderful than the intervention of the physical forces which over- whelmed the Persians. If such a phenomenon as 1 viii. 36-39. / 60 ANCIENT GREEK HISTORIANS lect. the removal of the arms presented itself to us for criticism — supposing the fact were assured beyond a doubt, and supposing human agency were absolutely excluded by the circumstances — we should regard it as something incomparably more extraordinary than the unquestionably wonder- ful coincidence of the storm of lightning.^ H?rej in fact, Herodotus has failed to draw the Ijp^ ^^ what is" physically impossible. The truth is that , his faith and doubt are alike instinctiye : he had never thought the problem out^for.hJTy*'^^^', ^f* had never clearly defined_J;lie..bQrder-between- the domains of the c]c£dible_and^ the incredible^_ And so in this episode he has no sooner given us a lesson in faith than he relapses into reserve. For there was yet another marvel to be told. It was said that two armed warriors of superhuman stature pursued the flying Persians and dealt death among their broken ranks. But Herodotus care- fully avoids the responsibility of accepting this story. He gives it on the authority of the Persians ; he qualifies it by the phrase "as I am informed " ; and he adds that the Delphians identified the two warriors with local heroes. The contrast of the naivete of Herodotus with his scepticism imparl tohis epic~a very piqyuant quality. Cred ulity alternates yith a cautious rer- serve, jw^chis_especiallj_noticeable when he is ^ I do not add the fall of the rocks ; for this might have been engineered. The rocks were shown to Herodotus in the temple of Athena Pronaia (ch. 39) ; this was just the sort of evidence which would impress him. 1 II HERODOTUS 61 aware of more than, one version^of .an. occurrence. He is an expert in the art of not committing himself. He says in one passage, *' I ambQund to state_what_is_jiaid»- hut T ani not boupj_-i2 believe."^ Of the tale that Zalmoxis lived for three years in a subterranean chamber, he pro- fesses agnosticism ; " I do not disbelieve nor do I absolutely believe it."^ Occasionally he criticizes and rejects a story, for instance the cb.arge against the Alcmaeonids of treachery at Ma:*athon ; but^ his common practice is to state conflicting accounts and leave the matter there. This method, as it happens, is much more satisfactory to a modern critic than if Herodotus had selected one version, or had attempted to blend different versions to- gether. But it shpws.him in th^ejight of acoUegtor of historical material, -and an-accampli&hed artist jp flrranmn^^nj^l'PfiPnting it^ rflthpr ihail_aS_whaLS£e meaiiby_a hisionan, who^ eensiders~it his'-busiftess to sift the^eyidence^ and decide, if possible, between conflicting accounts. We are often tempted to think of Herodotus as an Ionian, although he was not a native of Ionia. He wrote in Ionic ; and he cannot be severed from the school of the Ionian historians, to whom his work owed a great deal more than appears on the surface. But if he had heard himself described as an Ionian writer, he would have been vastly indignant. He is at great pains to dissociate himself from Ionia and Ionian interests. In his I » viL 152. - 2 iy_ 96^ ,A 62 ANCIENT GREEK HISTORIANS lect. account of the Ionian revolt and of the part which the lonians played in the war with Xerxes, he shows a hardly veiled contempt for a people which, as he says, had been thrice enslaved. He tells us that the name " Ionian was one of no great repute." He is careful to record, without any comment, the Scythian opinion that the lonians were the most cowardly and unmanly people in the world.^ He takes frequent opportunities of criticizing adversely the views of Ionian writers. Now I think we may say that this antagonistic attitude was not due entirely or principally to the fact that he belonged by birth to Dorian Halicarnassus. He does indeed insist on the difference of Dorian and Ionian, but the contrast on which his anti-Ionian feeling depended was one within the Ionian race itself — the distinction of the Athenians from the lonians of Asia. We saw that Herodotus was at Athens before he went to / Italy, and his connexion with Athens impressed its mark on his political views. He was a warm .w^dmirer of the Athenians, and looked with favour and enthusiasm on their empire. He participated in their experiment of colonising Thurii, became a citizen of their daughter-city. But even if we had not this external proof of his political sympathy, his work testifies to it abundantly. The whole account not only of the Marathonian campaign but of the war with Xerxes is one that redounds to the _glory of Athens and flatters Atheniaii.|)£ide>>~Jt is, jn^fact, written mainly from the AthenianjiQiixt-of 1 iv. 142. II HERODOTUS 63 view, and represents largely, though not exclusively, tKe Athenian version. The Spartans and the part they took in the war are often handled with irony — for example, they were always arriving too late because they were celebrating a feast. The Corinthians are treated almost with malice. The story would have had a very different complexion if it had been written in the Spartan interest ; and even though we have no philo-Spartan historian of the time, a very good case has been made out for the view that Sparta showed as true heroism as Athens.^ Further, Herodotus takes opportunities to set forth the mythistorical claims of Athens to a hegemony of the Greeks, and represents Athens as asserting those claims_at_tbe time ^ the Persian war.^ This is^ an_anachronism. At that time Sparta was admittedly the leader and dictator ; Athens was a member of the Peloponnesian con- federacy, and the strife for supremacy had not begun. Thus the situation is construed in the hght of the sequel ; history is distorted in the interest of politics ; and the grounds of the cl^m to hegemoiny which Herodotus ascribes to the Athenians rf that time are the_^ock arguments which we fiiid used in Athenian funeral oratiQiis.j0 illustrate, yjid_ju^tify_the_^A^e^ empirje.. In the Epita ihios which Pericles pronounced over the citizens J.illed in the Samian war (439 B.C.) these argumer ts from myth and history were doubtless marshalled ; and that Herodotus was present and • By E. Meyer. 2 ^i X61 ; ix. 27. I 64 ANCIENT GREEK HISTORIANS lect. listened to it is a conjecture of Eduard Meyer, which has some plausibility, since we find that a famous picturesque phrase used by the orator, likening the dead soldiers to the spring taken out of the year, was adopted by the historian and placed in a new setting.^ Admiration for the Athenian empire in the third quarter of the fifth century meant admiration for Pericles, the chief inspirer of Athenian policy, and the sympathy of Herodotus with Pericles is revealed in the single passage in which he mentions him, where he records the anecdote of his mother's dream that a lion would be born to her.^ It is revealed, too, in sympathy with the Alcmaeonid family.^ ^lis strong phil- Athenian feelings cannot Jbe disconnected froni_hi§„tojie of pi:^idice arjd[_(jis- garagement in treating the lonians. When the immediate danger of Persian subjection was over, and the Ionian cities which had been leagued with Athens as an equal were brought to submit to her as a mistress, there was little love lost. The Ionian record of the war was one which woul^ have failed to satisfy Athenian patriots as certainly * vii, 162. 2 yi 121 ^ V. 71 rests on the Alcmaeonid tradition. It has l .^en suggested that this sympathy of Herodotus may explain his curiom treatment of Themistocles. To this statesman Athens chiefly owed th» decisive role she played in the war, and though his good counsels are recc -^nised, he is also treated in an unfriendly spirit of detraction, and repret 'nted as an intriguer rather than as a statesman. This looks as if the memory of Themistocles were under a cloud, and this partial obscuiation were reflected in lierodotus. Afterwards, Thucydides made a poik't of doing him justice. n HERODOTUS 65 as the Herodotean narrative must have failed to please the lonians. Herodotus expressly argued that the Athenians were "truly the saviours of Greece " ; ^ but he did more : he gave currency and authority to a story which embodied Athenian tradition and justified Athenian empire, and with such cunning and tact that it has been permanently ' effective. His admiration for Athens was bound up witlji his belief in democratic freedom. Until the Peisistratids were overthrown, he says, Athens was an ordinary undistinguished city ; but when the Athenians abolished the tyranny and won their freedom, they became by far the first state in Greece.^ Herodotus then was a phil- Athenian democrat. If the story is true that the Athenians bestowed on him ten talents (about 12,000 dollars) in recog- nition of the merits of his work, it was a small remuneration for the service he rendered to the renown of their city.^ But that he did this service does not degrade his work into anything that could be described as a partisan publication in the offensive sense. It was pragmatical ; it reflected^ the author's political beliefs, andexhibited a strong bias in the preference^ gjyenjto^Athema^ But it was the work of a historian who cannot help being partial ; it was not the work of a partisan who becomes a historian for the sake of his cause. ^ vii. 139. ' fULKp^ irpGnoi, v. 78. * Plutarch, Tlepl r^s 'HpoSfrrou KaK(yqBela%, 26. There is nothing incred- ible in the story that he recited part of his work at Athens c. 445 b.c. His work then consisted of the last three Books. ,y 66 ANCIENT GREEK HISTORIANS lect. Something more particular must be said about the Herodotean story of the Persian invasion. A self- flattering version of the war had become a tradition at Athens. We have an early sketch of it, in a poetical form, in the Persae of Aeschylus (472 B.C.) ; but Herodotus was probably the first to write it down in a historical form, some twenty years later. Oral traditions (gathered at Athens, Sparta, Delphi, and elsewhere) appear profusely in his work, as every one knows. But he could not have constructed his history of the course of the war from oral traditions alone, or composed such a narrative of events, in which he was too young to take part, thirty years or so afterwards, without the help of some earlier record. We have seen that he depended on Hecataeus for E^y^i» though this was just one of the portions of his work where autopsy, and information collected orally, might have sufficed. Thereis little doubt that Hecataeus was his main guide for early orientaL history, and that the same writer was also used for the descrip- tions of Scythia and Libya, along with other geographical works of the Ionian school. When we come to the invasion of Darius and Xerxes, we find, as we might expect, clear indications that Herodotus here too had a written guide. Through- out the narrative, in the last three Books, of the events after INIarathon to the end of the second i invasion, the historian has naturally to pass back- wards and forwards from the Persians to the Greeks. Now there is a remarkable contrast n HERODOTUS 67 between the character of the narrative when the writer takes us to Susa or to the Persian camp, and when he transports us to the cities or tents of the Greeks. In the accounts of what the Greeks did, we are constantly confronted with more than one story, representing various oral traditions which reflect different local interests. But when we follow the movements of the Persians, we have a continuous chronological narrative, bynojnoeans always credible, but all of a piece and marked by enumerations and details which point to a more_pr less contemporary written source^ jand__a_&Qurce.j3f which Persian, not Greek, history was formallyjbhe subject.^ This source contributes the main thread of the narrative, round which Herodotus has wrought all the additional supplementary and illustrative material he managed to collect. The chronology of Persian events after Marathon is orderly and distinct, contrasting with the un- certainties which beset the digressions on Greek history, such as that on the Spartan kings Cleomenes and Demaratus. Now we know of a history of the Persian war prior to Herodotus, the book of Dionysius of Miletus. I spoke of it in the last lecture, and I also pointed out that the Persian history of Charon of Lamp- sacus may, not improbably, have come down to the invasion of Xerxes. Either of these books would satisfy the condition that the war was treated as an episode in Persian, not Greek, history, so that it is not unlikely 68 ANCIENT GREEK HISTORIANS lect. that one of these may have been the source of Herodotus.^ . Into the warp thus furnished by an older writer is wrought a woof of Athenian tradition, varied here and there by tissue from other sources. And it is noteworthy how in the last three Booksjjcom- prising the invasion of^Xerxes, the imminenceL_Df a divine diiection of hmnan affairs is strongly accentuated. The sceptical tone is less apparent here than in other parts of the work. From the beginning of the seventh Book the dominant note is changed, at least this is the impression I receive ; the atmosphere becomes charged with a certain solemnity ; it is, I think we might say, rather Athenian than Ionian. Is this difference due to the influence of those Athenian dramas which had glorified the subject, the tragedies of Phry- nichus and Aeschylus ? The catastrophe which befals the Persian ex- pedition is not conceived as the work of jealous gods annoyed by the conspicuous wealth or success of mere mortals. It is rather a divine punishment pOheJnsQlence_and-rasEnes^^ presperity. This is the Aeschylean doctrine : Zevs Toi KokaxTTris twv VTrcpKOfjLTruiv ayav v his sources supplied, h^ never attempted to_ grapple with the chronological difficulties of Greek history, although so many of' the episodes which he related raised the problem of synchronizing Hellenic tradi- tion with oriental records. We have no reason to suppose that he avoided the problem because he judged it insoluble ; his indifference to it is another manifestation of his epic, quasi-historical mind. The first phase of Greek historiography culmi- nates and achieves its glory in Herodotus. He reflects its features — its eager research into geo- graphy and ethnography (the indispensable ground- work of history), and its predominant interest in the East. He adopts from Hecataeus a critical attitude towards the ancient myths, aided by a rudimentary comparative mythology. But these ^ He signalises the years 490-481 by reference to the year of Marathon, but he does not mention the eponymous archon of that year. Even if he had done so a reader would have required a list of Attic archons, in order to follow his dates intelligently. Herodotus does not assist his readers by reckoning back from a fixed point which they could realise. Thucydides I'f saw that without such a point dates were entirely in the air, and he dated • ' backward from the first year of the Peloponnesian war. 74 ANCIENT GREEK HISTORIANS lect.ii elements are transfigured by the magic of his epic art and the spell of a higher historical idea. He was the Homer of the Persian war, and that war originally inspired him. His work presents a picture of sixth - century civilisation ; and it is also a universal history in so far as it gathers the greater part of the known world into a narrative which is concentrated upon a single issue. It is fortunate for literature that he was not too critical ; if his criticism had been more penetrating and less naive, he could not have been a second Homer. He belonged entirely in temper and mentality to the period before the sophistic illumination, which he lived to see but not to understand. Before his death, the first truly critical historian of the world had begun to compose. Our attention will next be claimed by Thucydides. LECTURE III THUCYDIDES § 1. His life and the growth of his work Thucydides belonged by descent to the princely family of Thrace into which Miltiades, the hero of Marathon, had married. He was thus a cousin of the statesman Cimon, and he inherited a rich estate with gold mines in Thrace. And so, while he was an Athenian citizen and connected with a distinguished family of Athens, he had an inde- pendent pied a terre in a foreign country. His mind was moulded under the influence of that intellectual revolution wHich we associate with the comprehensive name of the Sophists, the illumination which was flooding the^^ducatecl w^jd of Hellas with the radiance of reason. Without accepting the positive doctrines of any particular teacher, he learned the greatest lesson of these thinkers : Mie learned to consider and crTijpi^g__fe.ntSi "^P^f\)"dif^pd^ J}y anthority apd traditkmTi He came to be at home in the "modern" way of thinking, which analysed politics and ethics, and applied logic to every- 75 76 ANCIENT GREEK HISTORIANS lect. thing in the world. We might illustrate how intense and deep -reaching the sophistic move-, ment was, in the third quarter of the fifth century, by pointing to the difference between Herodotus and Thucydides. If you took up the two works without knowing the dates of their composition, you would think there might be a hundred years' development between them. But then consider the difference between Sophocles and Euripides. Thucydides must have been at least twenty-five years old, some think he was as much as forty, when the Peloponnesian war broke out in 431 B.C. At the very beginning he formed the resolution/ to record it, and in the first years of the war, at least, the composition of the history was nearly contemporary with the events. In 424 B.C. he was elected to the high office of a strategos and appointed to command in Thrace ; and the loss of Amphipolis led to his condemna- tion and banishment. For twenty years he did not see Athens, and, while he probably lived for the most part on his Thracian estate, he also travelled to collect material for his work. It seems certain that he visited Sicily, for his narrative of the Athenian expedition could not have been written by one who had not seen Syracuse with his own eyes.^ After the end of the war he was allowed to return to Athens in 404 B.C. (by the decree of Oenobius). He did not ^ That he knew Sparta is a legitimate inference from i. 10. 2, and 134.4. Ill THUCYDIDES 77 die before 399 B.C. ; perhaps he was no longer alive in 396 B.C. ; and he left his book unfinished.^ It is evident how these biographical facts, and they are almost all we know about the man, bear upon his historical work. (^Hi^foinny^^ at Athens provided him, perhaBSjjwith.exceTltional facilities for obtaining authentic information, while hismilitary training_and^ experience qualified hjm to be the historian of a war. His second home in Thrace gave him an interest independent of Athens, and helped him to regard the Athenian empire with a certain detachment which would have been less easy for one who was a pure- blooded citizen and had no home outside Attica. His banishment operated in the same direction, and afforded him opportunities for intercourse ,with the antagonists of his country. The in- tellectual movement which invaded Athens when he was a young man was a condition of his mental growth ; if he had belonged to an earlier gfenera- tion, he could not have been Thucydides. But if all these circumstances helped and con- ditioned the achievements of a profoundly original mind, which always thought for itself, we must seek the stimulus which aroused the historical faculty of Thucydides in — the Athenian empire. If it was the wonder of the Greek repulse of the Persian hosts that inspired the epic spirit of ^ There were conflicting stories as to the manner and the place of his death. His tomb, which may have been a cenotaph, was shown at Athens, in the burying-place of the family of his kinsman Cimon, near the Melitid gate. 78 ANCIENT GREEK HISTORIANS lect. Herodotus, it was the phenomenon of the Empire of Athens, a new thing in the history of Hellas, — an empire governed by a democracy, a new thing in the history of the world — that captured the cooler but intense interest of Thucydides. He ! did not take up his pen to celebrate ; his aim wgs ' to understand. — to observe critically how that empire behaved in the struggle which was to test_^ its powers^; It has not, I think, been sufficiently realised what an original stroke of genius it was to form the idea of recording the history of the war at the very moment of its outbreak. Con- temporary history in the strictest meaning of the term was thus initiated. Thucydides watched the events for the purpose of recording them ; he collected the material while it was fresh from the making. Fprth^_he-d^^igTiH r history whifih should be simply a history^f the war and of the relations of the militentL._states^wJbidh,skQuld_c^^ fjne itself to its_theme, and not deviate into geography oranthropologyjQr.-0±liex- things. Thus he was the founder of "polMcaL" histgiy in the special sense in which we are accustomed to use the termj Widely divergent views are held as to the way in which the work of Thucydides was constructed and the stages by which it reached its final though incomplete state. This question is not one of merely meritorious curiosity which may be left to the commentator as his exclusive concern ; it affects our general conception of the historian's Ill THUCYDIDES 79 point of view, as well as his art, and no study of Thucydides can evade it. The history falls into two parts. The first endsl with the Fifty Years Peace of 421 B.C., which atj the time seemed to conclude the war and terminate \ the author's task. The second part is formally I ^ introduced by a personal explanation, in which 1 Thucydides announces the continuation of his subject down to the capture of Athens in 404 b.c. He explains that though we may divide the whole period 431-404 B.C. into three parts — the first war of ten years, then seven years of hollow truce, and then a second war, — the truer view is that there was only one war lasting twenty-seven years, for the hollow truce was truly nothing less than war. This passage was written after 404 b.c. and natur- ally suggests that Thucydides had only recently recognised that the indecisive war which he had recorded was only a portion of a greater and decisive war, and had determined to extend the compass of his work to the whole twenty-seven years. On the other hand, his statements^ seem to make it evident that during his banishment he had followed the course of events and travelled with a view to continuing his work^ This con- tinuation was prompted by the Athenian expedi- tion to Sicily, and was intended to be the history of what then seemed to him a second war. I conclude then that there were three stages in his plan. After the Fifty Years' Peace of 421 b.c., 1 V. 26. 80 ANCIENT GREEK HISTORIANS lect. his book was to be simply a history of the war of ten years. The course of the Sicilian expedi- tion began a new war which he determined also to record, as a chronologically separate episode. Then the catastrophe of 404 b.c. set in a new light the significance of all that had happened since the original outbreak of hostilities in 431 B.C., and imparted to the whole series of events a unity of meaning which they would hardly have acquired if the struggle had been terminated in 404 B.C. not by the fall of Athens but by a second edition of the Fifty Years' Peace. Hence Thucydides rose to thejgrger yo^cf^ptl"^ "f prndnping a bitrtnrjr nf^ thejvhple period of t.wenty-sevf n years. Accordingly he found on his return to Athens that he had three things to do. He had to compose the history of the ambiguous interval between the Fifty Years' Peace and the Sicilian war. Secondly, he had to work up the rough copy and material of the last ten years. This was done^ fully and triumphantly for the Sicilian episode, but of the rest we only possess the un- revised draft of the years 412 and 411, known as Book VIII., for which, perhaps in respect to its literary shape, and certainly in respect to its matter (by means of supplementary information procurable at Athens), much had to be done. In the third place, it was desirable and even I necessary to make some additions and alterations! in the original, completed but still unpublished, I ^ Perhaps before his return. Ill THUCYDIDES 81 history of the first ten years, so as to bring it internally as well as externally into the light of the higher unity. This was a natural thought, and it appears to me the only hypothesis that explains the facts without constraint/ § 2. His principles of historiography : accuracy and relevance In his Introduction Thucydides announces, a pew conception of historical writings He sets up a new standard of truth or accurate reproduction of facts, and a new ideal of historical research ; judged by which, he finds Herodotus and the Ionian historians wanting. He condemns them expressly for aiming at providing "good read- ing," as we should say, rather than facts, and for narrating stories, the truth of which cannot possibly be tested. He_dbesjio1L^s.eekJumielf_io fumish^ntertainment or to win a popular .success, but to construct a record which shall be per- qianeptly valuable ^ because it is true. He warns his readers that they will find nothing mythical in his work. He saw, as we see, that the mythical element pervaded Herodotus (of whom, evidently, he was chiefly thinking) no less than Homer. His own experience in ascertaining contemporary facts taught him, as nothing else could do, how soon and how easily events are ^ See Appendix. 2 Instructive. I revert to this important point in Lecture VIII. G y 82 ANCIENT GREEK HISTORIANS leot. wont to pass into the borders of myth ; he learned thereby the most effective lesson of scepticism in regard to historical tradition. It was indeed of inestimable importance for the future of history that Thucydides conceived the new idea of re- cording the war at its commencement. It made all the difference to his work that he formed the resolve in 431 b.c. and not after the war was over. Writing the history of the present is always a very different thing from writing the history of the distant past. The history of the distant past depends entirely on literary and documentary sources ; the history of the present always involves unwritten material as well as documents. But the difference was much greater in the days of Thucydides than it is now. To-day a writer sitting down to compose a history of his own time would depend mainly on written material, 5^,^**^ • — on official reports, official documents of various ^ kinds, and on the daily press. He would supple- \n«^^ ' ment this, so far as he could, by information vjA-^ w>*^ derived personally from men of affairs, or by his own experience if he had witnessed or taken part in public events ; but the main body of his work would depend on written sources. The ancient historian, on the contrary, in consequence of the comparative paucity of official reports and the absence of our modern organization for collecting and circulating news, would have to be his own journalist and do all the labour of obtaining facts orally from the most likely sources ; and Ill THUCYDIDES 83 his success might largely depend on accidental facilities. His work would rest, mainly on in- formation obtained orally by his own inquiries, supplemented by such documents as were avail- able, such as the texts of treaties or official instructions or letters ; whereas the modem work is based principally on printed or written informa- tion, supplemented by such private information as may be accessible. It is clear that the ancient conditions made the historian's task more difficult, and demanded from him greater energy and initiative. Few things would be more interesting han a literary diary of Thucydides, telling of his interviews with his informants and showing his ways of collecting and sifting his material. But it was part of his artistic method to cover up all the traces of his procedure, in his finished narrative. He had to compare and criticize the various accounts he received of each transaction ; but his literary art required that he should present the final conclusions of his research without indicating divergences of evidence. It is probable that he suppressed entirely details about which he could not satisfy himself. He was very chary of mentioning reports or allegations concerning which he felt in doubt ; in the few cases in which he disclaims certainty we may suppose that he accepted the statement as probable.^ He does not name his informants ; nor does he even tell • ^ For instance : of the answer of the oracle to the Spartans (wy X^erat), i. 118. 3 ; of the motives of Archidamus, ii. 18. 5 ; of the end of Nicias, vii. 86. 84 ANCIENT GREEK HISTORIANS lect. e us on what occasions he was himself an eye-witness of what he describes. We may make guesses, but we can only speak with assurance of the operations which he conducted as strategos. \ We are able, however, to gain a slight glimpse into the historian's workshop because some parts of his work have been 'left incomplete. The eighth Book is only a preliminary draft. In it we find accounts emanating from different inform- ants, Athenian and Peloponnesian, written out so as to form a continuous narrative, yet containing contradictions as to matters of fact as well as differ- ences in tendency.^ It is possible, for instance, to detect that i5ome of the Peloponnesian informants were favourable to Astyochus the Lacedaemonian commander, and others were not It is evident that we have material which has only been pro- visionally sifted. Again, the texts of the three successive treaties of alliance between Persia and Sparta are given verbatim,'^ and if we consider the transitory significance of the first two, it seems improbable that Thucydides intended to reproduce them hi eoctenso in his final draft. They were material — material, according to a plausible con- jecture, furnished by Alcibiades. These facts, and the unsatisfactory nature of the account of the oligarchic revolution, as compared with the finished portions of the work, confirm what the style and the absence of speeches had long ago suggested. ^ See Holzapfers article mentioned in the Bibliography. 2 viii. 18, 3T, 58. Ill THUCYDIDES 85 that Book viii. was a first draft which, if the writer had lived, would have appeared in a very different shape. In the fifth Book it may also be shown that there was still revision to be done, though this section was in a more advanced state than Book VIII. Here we find a whole series of documentary texts. Now it was not in accordance with the artistic method of Thucydides, or of ancient his- torians in general, to introduce into the narrative matter heterogeneous in style ; and it is almost incredible that he would have admitted texts not written in Attic Greek. We must, I think, con- clude that we have here material which was to be wrought in during a final revision. In the finished part of the history we can some- times penetrate to the source of information. It is easy to see that he consultedPlatagans as to the siege of Plataea, and that he received information iroin^ Spartans_j.s well as from Athenians about the episode of Pylos and Sphacteria. We can sometimes divine that he has derived his state- ments from the official instructions given to mjlijary commandei^j^ and it has been acutely shown that his enumeration of the allies of the two opposing powers at the beginning of the war was based on the instrument of the Thirty Years' Peace. ^ Some- times the formulae of decrees or treaties peer through the Thucydidean summary.^ ^ By Wilamowitz-Mollendorff. - Cp. ii. 24 ; iv. 16. Wilamowitz-MdllendorfF, JDie Thukydides-legends (see Bibliography). iJk' u Y^ 86 ANCIENT GREEK HISTORIANS lect. I VWe have then to take the finished product, Which Thucydides furnishes, on trust. We have not any considerable body of independent evidence for testing his accuracy, but so far as we can test it by the chance testimonies of original documents, he comes out triumphantly (in those parts which he completed), and there can be no question that the stress which he laid on accuracy was not a phrase.^ The serious criticisms which can be brought against him in regard to fi^ffts nnncam not what he states but what he omits to state. For instance, the important measure which Athens adopted in 424 b.c. of raising the tribute of the subject states is passed over entirely, though it is a pertinent fact in the story of the war ; we have learned it in recent years by the discovery of parts of the stone decree. We cannot discern his reasons ) for recounting some passages of military history at great length and passing over others (such as the ^ Some errors are due not to the author but to very early scribes. For instance, Andocides in i. 51, Methone for Methana in iv. 45 (cp. Wilar mowita-Mollendorff, op. cit.). It is imquestionable that he makes grave topographical mistakes in his account of the episode of Pylos-Sphacteria. He has completely misconceived the size of the entrances to the bay, and he gives the length of Sphacteria as 15 stades, whereas it is really 24. These errors have led Grundy to deny that Thucydides had ever visited the spot ; while R. M. Burrows (who has shown that the whole narrative is otherwise in accordance with the topography) thinks that his measure- ments were wrong. My view is that he first wrote the story from infor- mation supplied by eye-witnesses who gave him a general, though partly inaccurate, idea of the place, and that he afterwards tested it on the spot and probably added local touches, but omitted to revise the errors of distance. We have a somewhat similar case in the description of New Car- thage by Poly bins (see below, p. 194). It is indeed possible that the blunder in the length of the island may have been exaggerated by a scribe's pen. For K was exposed to confusion with (ts or) le. — The topography of the siege of Plataea has been elucidated by Grundy. Ill THUCYDIDES 87 attempt of Pericles on Epidaurus) with a bare mention. But in other cases his silence is a judg- ,^ ment. He rejects, for instance, by ignoring, the connexion which the gossip of the Athenian streets alleged between the private life of Pericles and the origin of the war. But it must be allowed in general that, in omitting, Thucydides displays a boldness and masterfulness on which no modern -^ historian would venture.^ ^^TCaJju.^ His omissions are closely connected with a X general feature of his work. If the first funda- ^ mental principle of his ideal of history was accuracy, the second was relevance ; and both o^*^^-^"^ signify his rebound from Herodotus. Discursive- yuAe^o^L ness as we saw was the very life-breath of the epic history of Herodotus ; the comprehensiveness of the Ionian idea of history enabled him to spread about through a wide range, to string on tale to tale, to pile digression on digression, artfully, yet as loosely as the structure of his Ionic prose. Thucydides conceived the notion of political history, and he laid down for himself a~striCt pTfirciple of exclusion. His subject is the war^^ and he will not take advantage _.Q£,Qpporti^"it^f<; to digress into the history of culture. He ex- cludes geography, so far as brief notices are not immediately necessary for the explanation of the ' Thus no modern historian, probably, would have omitted to note the psephisma of Charinus, which followed up the decrees excluding Megara from the markets of Athens and her empire, by excluding Megarians on penalty of death from the very soil of Attica. Thucydides would have said that it did not affect the outbreak of the war. 88 ANCIENT GREEK HISTORIANS lect. events recorded. He disdains personal gossip and anecdotes ; he had no use for the spicy memoirs of Ion and Stesimbrotus. He rigidly abstains from dropping any information about the private life of 4>) Pericles, Cleon, or any other politician ; and the exception which he makes in the case of Alcibiades only serves to show the reason for the rule ; because those sides of the life of Alcibiades which Thucy- dides notices had, in his view, distinct political consequences in determining the attitude of the Athenians towards him. Further, he jsxcludes the internal history of the states with whose political "1 ) intgr-relations he is concerned, except when the internal aiFected directly, or was bound up with, the external, as in the case of the plague and of the domestic seditions. He does not give any information about the political parties at Athens, , g^j though some of his statements imply their exist- ence, till he comes to the oligarchical revolution. His outlook, as Wilamowitz has observed, is not bounded by the Pnyx, but by the Empire. ^^^7 There are, of course, digressions in Thucydides, 'I but with hardly an exception they are either <^^^ closelv relevant or introduced for some special ^^<^ ' purposi^ The history of the growth of the Athenian empire is in form an excursus; but we might i) fairly say that it properly belongs to the pro- legomena ; it is distinctly relevant to the subject of the book, and had the special purpose of supple- menting and correcting Hellanicus. The digression in THUCYDIDES 89 on the fortunes of Pausanias is also a relevant, z.] though certainly not necessary, explanation of the Athenian demand that the Lacedaemonians should expel a pollution ; but the account, which follows, of the later career of Themistocles_ is wholly unconnected with the Peloponnesian war. I will however show hereafter that the author had a special motive in introducing it. The valuable chapter on early Athens, with its archaeo- logical evidence,^ is strictly to the point, for its ^ purpose is to illustrate the historian's acute remark that the distress of the country people at coming to live in the city was due to habits derived from the early history of Attica. A sketch of the early history of Sicily was almost indispensable for the elucidation of the narrative ; a knowledge of the v^ ) island and its cities could not be taken for granted in the Athenian public. The description of the Odrysean kingdom of Sitalces^ was unquestionably due to the author's personal interest in Thrace ; - \ but it had the object of suggesting a contrast between the power and resources of Thrace and Scythia with those of the Greek states. Xhe story of the fall of the Athenian tyrants ^^-^^^*^ ^ (in Book vi.), which is an excursus in the true c*-wc^ ^, ^'^»i ■ ■ ■ ■■" ' ■ ■- 1 sense of the word, was introduced to correct popular -"v^^w^^v*^ errors. The other passage in which Thucydides \ seems for a moment non - Thucydidean is where \ he sketches the history of the fair of Delos, quotes "^ ^ A part of it would naturally have appeared in a footnote, had foot- notes been then in use. 2 u. 96-7; cp. ii. 29. 90 ANCIENT GREEK HISTORIANS lect. from a Homeric hymn, and deviates into the history of culture. I cannot help suspecting that here too he is correcting some current misappre- hension. If he may legitimately be criticized for turning aside from his subject to correct errors which may seem trivial enough, and if he is some- times reprimanded for having elsewhere captiously noted a couple of small blunders in Herodotus, it must be remembered t^f^t \X waSf of impnrtanpp to illustrate his doctrine that tradition cannot he I taken on trust, and that the facile methods of current historiography inevitably^led to inaccuracy. The^digressions then in Thucydides which can frpm the digressions_aiid_ ajnplitud^ The critic Dionysius considered it a point of inferiority in Thucydides, as compared with Hero- dotus, that he pursued his subject steadily and kept to his argument, without pausing by the way and providing his readers with variety ; and he supposed that in ** the two or three places " where the historian did digress, his motive was to relieve the narrative by a pleasant pause. The criticism would have been more elucidating if Dionysius had pointed out that/while Herodotus wasjnfluencedjbx. the epic, the artistic method of Thucydides must r/tther be compared with thatpf the drama. Thucy- dides adheres as closely to his argument as a tragic poet, and such variety as was secured in tragedyj by the interjection of choral odes, he obtains by th( speeches which he intersperses in the narrative [th. Ill THUCYDIDES 91 His first consideration was accuracy ; he had to follow^ events and not to mould them into corlre- spondence with an artistic plan, and his strict chrjoijQ^ logical order excluded devices of arran^rQentX.j3ut occasionally we can detect deliberate management for the sake of a calculated effect. It may be pointed out that the long section on the origin and growth of the Athenian empire, placed where it is, between the two Assemblies at Sparta, has the effect of interrupting a series of speeches which coming together would have been excessively long. Again, it has been well shown by Wilamowitz- MoUendorff how the delays of Archidamus, in the first invasion of Attica, in the hope that Athens might give in at the last moment, are reflected in the form of the narrative, which is arranged to produce the impression of a slow and halting march ; and the archaeological deviation into the early history of Athens has the value of assisting in this artistic effect. /C § 3. Modern criticisms on his competence /In common with other ancient historians, Thucydides may be taken to task for not having recognised the part played in human affairs by economic facts and commerciaLJiiterests. That he was not blind to economic conditions is shown by the leading significance he attributes to want of material resources in the early Greek communities ; and he fully realises the importance of finance. But it may be said that he should have furnished a V 92 ANCIENT GREEK HISTORIANS lect. detailed explanation and analysis of the commercial basis on which the Athenian power rested, and of the mercantile interests of other states which were affected and endangered by her empire. _It |s however pnlyjn quite recent times that economical and commercial factors in historical develop- ment have begun to receive their due, and, perhaps it may be said^ra-tb^T-JHorfi than tkeir ^iifr. They have come so much to the front that some writers are tempted to explain all historical phenomena by economic causes. This illustrates how the tendencies of the present react upon our conceptions of the past. These factors, of such immense importance in the present age, certainly did not play anything like the same part in the ancient world, and if the ancient historians con- siderably underrated them, we may easily fall into the error of overrating them. We may be sure that the interests of Athens presented themselves to statesmen, as to Thucydides, primarily under the political, and not the economical, point of view. I Thucydides^^eated political history ; economic ' history is a discovery of the nineteenth century. Perhaps the gravest accusation which has been brought against the competency of Thucydides is that he misunderstood, if he did not intentionally misrepresefil7 the^causes of the Peloponnesian war. The charge has been formulated and pressed in different ways by a German and by an English scholar.^ Their indictments do not appear to me 1 H. Nissen and F. M. Comford. m THUCYDIDES 93 to be successful. The historian's account, which can only be refuted by proofs of internal discrep- ancy or of insufficiency, seems to be both con- sistent and, with certain reserves, adequately It will not be amiss to make a preliminary observation on two words which Thucydides uses in the sense of cause — airia and 7rp6acrc<;, airla has almost the same history as the Latin equivalent, caussa. Its proper sense was "griev- ance" or "ground of blame," "charge," and in Thucydides it generally^ either means this or, even when we can most appropriately translate it by cause, impHes a charge or imputation, nrpo- (fia(rcPrif»1f>g gnH hk pnli(»y i&.d£tached. I will only observe here that if he had wished to shield that statesman from the alleged responsi- bility, it was clumsy of him not to suppress or explain away the fact that in the final negotia- tions the Lacedaemonians made Megara the test- question, and said they would be satisfied if Athens yielded on that point. This ultimatum of the Lacedaemonians may indeed appear, at first sight, inconsistent with the subordinate role which the Megarian grievance plays in the historian's narrative of the circum- stances which led to the war ; and it has been urged that instead of keeping it in the background 96 ANCIENT GREEK HISTORIANS lect. he ought to have assigned it the most prominent place in the foreground. But a careful examina- tion will show, I think, that the narrative is com- pletely consistent, and embodies a closely reasoi^ed account of the causes andjnQtiY£S_at worO ^^,^-The most casual reader receives the unmistak- able impression that the Corinthians were the prime instigators of the war, driving the Lacedaemonians into action. The two affairs in which their interests were exclusively involved, the affair of Corcyra and the affair of Potidaea, are those which the author designates as the direct occasion of the war ; and the leading part taken by Corinth is emphasized by the reproduction of two Corinthian speeches, voicing Peloponnesian dissatisfaction. If the deepest concern of Corinth was the action which Athens had taken in regard to Megara by ex- cluding her from the markets of the Athenian empire, and thereby threatening her with eco- nomic ruin, then it must be allowed that Thucy- dides was entirely misinformed. In their speeches at Sparta, the Corinthian envoys do not mention the Megarian name, and the author expressly states that their eagerness to have war declared imme- diately was due to their anxiety for Potidaea. Can we discover any proof as to the real interest of Corinth in the Megarian question ? When the Corcyraean affair occurred, Corinth was so far from being anxious for war that she did all she could to secure the goodwill and neutrality of Athens. And she did not come with her hands m THUCYDIDES 97 empty. She did not merely urge her claims on Athenian gratitude for past services. She pro- posed a deal (433 B.C.). Some time before this, Athens had already initiated new designs on Megara by a decree excluding Megarian wares from Athens itself Corinth now said to her in effect ; Leave us a free hand in dealing with Corey ra, and we will leave you a free hand in deal- ing with Megara. The Corinthian ambassador put this diplomatically, at least in his speech before the popular Assembly.^ He did not say : You have improper designs on Megara, and we will connive. He said : Your conduct in regard to Megara has been open to suspicion ; you can allay these suspicions by doing what we ask. It came to the same thing. This proposition on the part of Corinth shows that in her eyes the independence of Megara was not of crucial importance. Her interests there weighed much less than her interests elsewhere. It was the alliance of Athens with Corcyra, fol- lowed by the affair of Potidaea, that determined the colUsion of Corinth with Athens, and it was this collision that precipitated a war which would in any case have come later. The Megarian decrees did not determine the action of Corinth, and it was Corinth's action which was decisive. On the other hand, once war was decided on by Corinth and the war-party at Sparta, the griev- ance of Megara formed an imposing item in the » i. 42. 9. H 98 ANCIENT GREEK HISTORIANS lect. list of Peloponnesian complaints and the general indictment of Athenian policy. In this indictment, the alliance of Athens with Corcyra, though it had been the first of the effective causes which led to the war, could not appear at all ; it could not be represented as either illegal or immoral. The attack on Potidaea could form a count ; but it arose out of a compHcated situation, and a great deal could be said on both sides. It was therefore an obvious stroke of diplomatic tactics to move the Megarian question into the foremost place, and represent the cruelty of Athens to Megara as the principal of her offences. The Lacedaemonians said : Yield on this question and there will be no war. It was a demand which no proud state, in the position of Athens, could have granted, and concession would have been simply an invitation for further commands. The reply was : We deny your right to dictate ; but we are perfectly willing to submit all your complaints to arbitration in accordance with the instrument of the Thirty Years' Peace. This is a perfectly_cQnsisteiit and intelligible account of the origin of the warj is there any reason for supposing that it is not true ? The only positive evidence to which an appeal can be made for rejecting it is that of Aristophanes, who attributes the outbreak to the second Megarian decree. This was the natural, superficial view, on account of the prominence which had been given to that decree in the final negotiation ; and it is Ill THUCYDIDES 99 not inconsistent with the Thucydidean account, in so far as that, if Athens had yielded, the war might have been avoided, or rather postponed. Further : in evaluating the statement of the comic poet, which doubtless reflected the current opinion of the Athenian market-place, we must not leave out of account the Athenian feeling against the war a year or so after it had broken out, a feeling which sought to lay the entire blame on Pericles and wove legends round the Megarian decree.^ But the popular opinion, expressed_by AristophaneSj, does not really contradict the causal perspective of Thucydides. It was precisely the notion which in the given circumstances was most likely to be left in the popular mind, if the occurrences were such as Thucydides represents them. There is another consideration which must not be neglected. Unless we hold the doctrine that all the speeches are entirely free inventions of his own, as purely Thucydidean throughout in argument as they are in style, — a doctrine which is untenable in face of his express statement, — and that he adapted the speeches of the first Book to a preconceived construction of his own, the speeches were a most important part of his material for forming his con- clusion as to the causes and motives of the war. He probably heard those delivered at Athens ; he was informed of the tenor or heads of those de- 1 We do not know whether the Megarian business figured in the Dionysalexandros of Cratinus (430-29 b.c), which satirised Pericles as being the cause of the war. See the Argument of the play, recovered hj Grenfell and Hunt, Oxyrhynchus Papyri, iv. No. 663. 100 ANCIENT GREEK HISTORIANS lect. livered at Sparta ; and he has reproduced the drift of these important pieces of evidence. Both in what they say, and in what they do not say, they bear out the justice of his construction and his perspective. It is a distinct question. What were the guiding motives of the Athenian poUcy in regard to Megara? Thucydides does not consider it, be- cause it did not seem to him to have determined the outbreak of the war, and was therefore, in a narrow sense, irrelevant ; a modern historian would not venture to treat it in this way. The object of Athens was undoubtedly to recover control of the Megarid which she had in recent times won and lost ; and, to do this without violating the Thirty Years' Peace, she resorted to economical pressure which would starve her neighbour into voluntary submission. Megara had a double value. Her control would give Athens the power of blocking the land route between the Peloponnesus and Boeotia, and would also secure to her a direct access to the Corinthian Gulf, for her commerce or her troops.^ We cannot say which of these consequences of the geographical position of Megara counted more with Athenian statesmen, in their unarmed aggression against a neighbour with whom their relations had long been un- ^ F. M. Cornford has ably explained the geographical importance of the Megarid as a commercial route between East and West, taking as his text what he calls B^rard's " law of isthmuses " ; and those who do not accept his inferences as a criticism of Thucydides must recognise the value of hfs investigation. Ill THUCYDIDES 101 friendly ; whether they-' were actuated rather by the "long view" of the use of a port on the Corinthian Gulf, for adding a western to their eastern empire, or by the more obvious view of erecting a barrier against the Peloponnesus. At Sparta, we may be sure, it was the second danger which would create more alarm. But however this may be, there is nothing to show that if there had been no affair of Corcyra and no affair of Potidaea, the Megarian question by itself would have caused the outbreak of the war at the time. But the criticism to which Thucydides has been exposed illustrates the disadvantages of his method, when it is pressed too far. His principle is to mention only effective policies, and to mention tHem for the first time when they begin Jbo become effective^ Tf Megara was a. pawn in Athenian schemes of aggrandisement in western Greece, it was never moved ; and in saying nothing of this aspect of the Megarian question, the historian is t^"^ tr> hk Tr^^^hnH If, in 433 B.C. or before, some Athenian politicians had their eyes on Sicily and Italy, the policy had no results till 427 b.c., and therefore in passing over with a bare mention the fact that Athens, in accepting the Corcyraean proposals in 433 B.C., recognised Italy and Sicily as within the range of her interests, he is again true to his method. 102 ANCIENT GREEK HISTORIANS lect. § 4. His treatment of non-conteviporary history JThucydides not only showed Greece how con- temporary history should be studied and recorded ; he also gave a specimen of a new way of handling the history of past ages. He prefixed to his work a general sketch of the /history of Hella^ which Dionysius of Halicarnassus, who by no means appreciated its~merits;" justty described as equiva- lent to an independent work. This sketch is amazing in its power and insight.^j We must re- ^f'**' V member that it is confined strictly to one side of j>> . \/ the historical development. It is intended to % ^^^ !/ answer a definite question : how it was that I ^^'^^iHl^^^ reppnt timps ]^n Igrcrp i\r\(\ p()^prfiil I state had arisen in Greece:, and to explain the I small scale of the military and political enter- / prises oT~tIie^ past.^ It does not touch on con- I stitutional history at all, and the "period of the tyrants " is only emphasized because their non- aggressive policy was a relevant point in the exposition. Within the limits to which it strictly , . adheres, this outline is a most closely reasoned argument and was the revelation of a totally new -- way of treating history. We cannot endorse it all ; and of the Homeric and pre- Homeric civilisa- tion in Greece we have come to know within the last thirty years more than Thucydides could discover. But criticism of details is not to the point; his sketch remains a shining example o£ y L m THUCYDIDES 103 leer historical insight and grasp. Rising with easy mastery over the mass of legends and details which constituted the ill-ordered store of Greek tradition, he constructs a reasoned march of development, furnishing the proofs of his con- clusions. He draws broad lines of historical growth, elicits generaland essential facts from the midtiLude,,..of_particulars, and characterizes periods by their saUent features. He calls atten- tion to the importance of considering conditions of culture, and suggests the text for a history of Greek civilisation. He turns the daylight of material conditions on the mythical period, and discovers in the want of resources the key to certain sides of the development of Hellas. He accepts, of course, like Herodotus and every one else, the actual existence of heroes such as Pelops, Agamemnon, Minos, for whom the j genealogies seemed to vouch. ^ He did not question the fact of the Trojan war ; but he -f«4»'^ 'i. ^ He takes a matter-of-fact account of the establishment of the Pelopid dynasty in Argolis from some previous writer, i. 9. 2 \^yovr] 'Attikt) of Hellanicus and the Apology of Antiphon ; but he refers generally to the works of poets and prose writers {Xoyoypdcpoi, i. 21) on early Greece, and of prose writers he was here thinking chiefly of Herodotus, whom he admittedly criticizes else- where. It has been conjectured with much probability that in writing the early chapters of Book vi. on the colonisation of Sicily he used the history of Antiochus of Syracuse (Wolfflin). He cannot have failed to know the books of Ion of Chios and Stesimbrotus, which must have been read with avidity at Athens. 104 ANCIENT GREEK HISTORIANS lkct. inferred tluit such a fact meant the eminence of a leading state in Cireece at the time, and showed tliat an examination of the traditions about it pointed to a general lack of resources. He accepted IMinos ; and his instinct in em- phasizing the Cretan thalassocracy seems to be justified by the recent discoveries in Crete. When he comes to a later time, he seizes with a sure eye as the greatest and most important fact of the two centuries before the Persian war the revival of nautical powers and the growth of navies. ■ 111 his acute arguments he employs methods which may be called mod,ern.. For instance, he '^' points to the culture of backward parts of Greece '*" as a survival of a culture which at one time in the past prevailed generally. He quotes Homer ^» as a witness for the conditions of his own age ^ without any reserve ; but when he quotes him in evidence for facts about the Trojan war, he adds a clause of caution. His proof of a Carian population in the islands is not literary but I arcliaeolo<>ical — Carian tombs which were dis- / ^ covered in liis own day when Delos was purifieu.' Tlie outline of the growth of the Atheniaji empire after the Persian wars is an exercise of_ a dif]£ren_t kijjd. No history of this period existed except what was furnished by the brief chronicle of Hellanicus. The account of Thucydides is an | / . . . . ' / original contribution and embodies the results of, ... /' his own iiK^uiries. He comments on the work ij Ill THUCYDIDES 105 of Hellanicus, noticing its inadequacy and alleging that it was chronologically inaccurate. Hellanicus, as we saw, found a place for every event in an archon y^ar, and I gave an instance of the errors into which he fell through pretending to know too much. Thucydides gives no absolute dates I and very few chronological indications of any | kind. It looks at first sight as if Hellanicus might have retorted on Thucydides that he had a curious notion of chronological precision. But the point of the Thucydidean criticism was just this, that there were no certain or sufficient data for such precision, and that the chronological exactness of/ Hellanicus ^as an illusion._^ We may suspect further that in the order in which he placed some of the events, he corrected his predecessor. How far his corrections, for which he must have relied on the memories of older men, were right, we cannot say. But in u any case, here too, he gave his contf'TPp^^^^ip^ ] a salutary lesson in scepticism. He pointedly ^ abstains from rptff^rppg gf, f\]\ to the archon yeaxsJ-- In his view the archon years, which ran from July to July, were inconvenient and un- suitable for a chronicle of military events, and ^ In the Pentekontaeteris. He is careful to mark the beginning of the Peloponnesian war (ii. 2) by the archon, the Spartan ephor, and the Argive priestess of Hera (this last dating, which he puts first, shows the influence of Hellanicus, which has also been conjectured in iv. 133). Similarly, when he starts afresh after the Ten Years' War, the date is marked by archon and ephor, v. 25. But we may legitimately criticize him for not having indicated formally the chronology of the four years (435-2) which are treated in Book i. A date is obviously wanted in c, 24. '2- ^ 106 ANCIENT GREEK HISTOIllANS lect.hi liable to lead to serious inaccuracies. For this reason he based his own military history on the natural division of the year into summer and whiter. That strict chronology was indispensable for accurate history, Thucydides was fully con- vinced. He proved it by casthig his own work into tlie form of annals. He was an artist, and he could not have failed to see as clearly as his critics (like Dionysius of Halicarnassus) that the annalistic frame was an awkward impediment to any plan of artistic construction. The two claims of chronological accuracy and a pleasing literary arrangement are not irreconcilable, as other historians, like Gibbon, have shown ; but Thucy- dides did not attempt to combine them, and it was characteristic that he should have preferred the demand of historical precision to the exigencies of literary art. His artistic powers were displayed not in the architecture of his work, but in a certain dramatic mode of treatment which will be considered in the next lecture. LECTURE IV THUCYDiDES (continued) § 1. The Speeches \ The historian has to do more than chronicle events. It is his business to show why things Jiappened_aiid to discover the forces which were at work. In order to understand the meaning of historical facts, he has to mpasiirf* thf! rihgj:gi2lf2-^ and penetrate the motives of the .actors, as well as to realise the con- ditions in which they acted. A psychological reconstruction is thus always involved in history, a reconstruction carried out in the mind of the individual historian, and necessarily affected by his personal temperament and his psychological ability. Some one has said that a writer who could draw a perfectly true and adequate portrait of Napoleon's complex character would be a man whose own soul was a counterpart of Napoleon's. This of course is an extreme way of putting the case, for there is such a thing as psychological imagination. But the subjective process^ can never be eliminated. It has diflfereirraspects"liPEhe cases of~contemporary and non- contemporary historians. The contem- 107 k. 108 ANCIENT GREEK HISTORIANS lect. porary historian lives in the same miheu, in the same sphere of ideas, and thus has more points of common sympathy with the pohtical actors of his time ; but, on the other hand, he cannot generally avoid the bias of personal views of his own. The historian of a past epoch may hope to be more impartial, but he cannot hope to divest himself, beyond a certain point, of the standards and measures of his own age ; they are inwoven in the tissue of his mind and they must affect his attempts to reconstruct the past. Thucydides has concealed this inevitable suit' jective element by his dramatic method. The ) persons who play leading parts in the public affairs which he relates reveal their characters and person- ; alities, so far as is required, by their actions and speeches. The author, like a dramatist, remains in the background, only sometimes coming forward ; to introduce them with a description as brief as in a playbill, or to hidicate what men thought about i them or the impression they made on their con- temporaries. His rule is^to commit himself jto_no personal judgments, and to this rule there are very_ i few exceptions.. '^ Tlie characters of some of the political personages are partly indicated in the speeches, of which I must now speak. They are an essential feature of the Thucydidean art. Herodotus had set the example, but Thucydides used speeches for different purposes and on a different scale, and adapted them to a different method. He states explicitly how IV THUCYDIDES 109 the speeches are to be taken and what they repre- sent. In some cases he heard speeches delivered, but it was impossible for him to remember them accurately ; and in other cases he had to depend on the oral reports of other^ His general rule was to take the general^ drift and intention of the sj)eaker, and from this; text compose ^hat he might probably have said, /it is clear that this principle gave great latitude to the author, and that the! Resemblances of the Thucydidean speeches to those Actually spoken must have varied widely according Xp his information. They are all distinctly Thucy- didean in style, just as the various characters in a play of Euripides all use similar diction.' Homo- geneity in style was a canon of most ancient men of letters ; they shrank from introducing lengthy quotations or inserting the ipsissima verba of docu- ments. Occasionally Thucydides has probably indicated personal mannerisms. For instance, in a speech of Alcibiades there are one or two expressions which are intended to suggest his characteristically "forcible" style.^ But this has been done with great reserve. Thucydides in his portraiture does not depend on mannerisms. The speeches of Pericles produce the effect of the lofty earnestness of a patriotic statesman who is somewhat of an idealist ; the speech of Cleon is that of a bullying pedagogue. But the diction is the same. So in Aeschylus, the nurse maunders, though she speaks ^ vi. 18 oiiK ( ANCIENT GREEK HISTORIANS lect. their lKi|)])iness was also tlie term of their life." Rut this is a paraphrase, and it does not give the effect of the (ireek. The literal translation is: "I'or Avhoni life was made commensurate, to be hap])v in and to die in, alike." (Even this fails to bring out the force of the aorist tense ivevSat/j.ovi'jaaL which suggests the ftmiiliar Greek saying, that a man's life cannot be judged happy till after his death.) Rut if the English is obscure and intoler- able, to a Greek ear, such as that of Dionysius, the Greek was hardly less so. Now is there any significance in this remarkable variation in style ? Is it purely capricious ? Does Thucydides break into dithyrambic prose just when, and simply because, he is in the mood ? Such caprice would not be artistic, and it would not be Greek. If the difference in style corre- sponded to tlie disthiction between narrative and speeches, the explanation would be ready. The speeches, in any case, serve the artistic purpose of pauses in the action ; they introduce the variety which Herodotus secured by digressions ; they fulfil somewhat the function of choruses in the drama. xVnd so we should not be surprised to find a corresponding variety in the diction and technicjue. Rut the difference in style extends hito the speeches themselves. The ex})lanation which I would submit to you is that when Thucydides adopts what we may fairly call his unnatural style, when he is involved and obscure, he is always making points of his IV THUCYDIDES 113 own. In support of this view, I allege the follow- ing considerations. (1) The meditation on the party - struggles in Greek states, though not a speech, belongs to this category. It interrupts the action ; it is, in fact, a speech of the author. And it is one of the flagrant examples of the unnatural style, and is commented on, as such, by Dionysius. Here then the author undisguisedly adopts this style for his own reflexions. (2) Secondly, take the Melian dialogue. Now whether we think, as some do, that such a conference was never held, or believe — and this is my opinion — that it was held, all agree that the actual conversa- tion is in the main fictitious. I will return to this dialogue in another connexion. I would point out now that it is a clear case in which the unnatural style is employed for a political study of the author. Contrast it, as Dionysius contrasts it, with another dialogue, that between Archidamus and the Plataeans. This is in the natural stvle, and obviously gives the simple tenor of what passed on the occasion. (3) My third proof lies in the contrast between two of the speeches of Pericles. The speech he delivered before the war is so lucid and straightforward in style as to have satisfied Dionysius ; and at the same time it is perfectly appropriate to the situation, and no doubt gives the general drift of the Periclean argument. On the other hand, the speech which he delivers in self-defence, when he became un- popular, is marked in part by those obscurities r 114 ANCIENT GREEK HISTORIxVNS lect. which excited tlie censure of Dionysius, and is also distinguislied by unsuitable statements which could not have been addressed by any statesman to a public ^vhose favour he desired to recover.^ I infer that when Thucydides writes in the unnatural stvle, he intends the reader to under- stand that he has here to do with the author himself — that the author is making points. When he writes in the natural style, he is producing documentary evidence. The speech of Pericles on the eve of the war is virtually a document. Let me make an application of this inference, which I think has some interest. The Epitaph'ios of Pericles is composed on the whole in the unnatural style. ^ It enshrines, as I believe, some utterances of Pericles himself; but the style is generally contorted and obscure, though we for- give, or may even find a certain pleasure in, this, so lofty is the spirit and so fine the thoughts. Now it is to be noted that, unlike other speeches, this funeral address does not cast any direct light on the events of the war, and that its tone is out of keeping with the occasion.^ There was no great action, no conspicuous deed of valour, in the first year of the war, yet this oration over the Athenians who fell in it is pitched in a key ^ I point out in the Appendix that it was composed or wrought over after the end of the war. ■^ The epigram of the Thucydidean Pericles on the virtue of women (ii. 4.")) may have been suggested by a saying of Gorgias. Wilaraowitz- MollcndorflF, llirnvs, ii. p. ^'<)1.. ^ This was observed by Dionysius. IV THUCYDIDES 115 which would be appropriate to the burial of the heroes of a Thermopylae. My view is thati Thucydides has seized this occasion to turn the light on Pericles himself. The Athens which Pericles here depicts is an ideal ; and the purpose of the historian is to bring out the fact that he was an idealist. The very incongruity between the occa- sion and the high-pitched strain of the orator heightens the calculated impression that Pericles, along with his political wisdom, possessed an imagination which outranged realities. If you were asked to translate into ancient Greek '* he is an idealist," you could not, I think, find a more exact equivalent than ^rjTel dXKo n, oxs 67709 elirelv, rj iv oU ^Mfjuev. This expression is applied by Cleon (in his speech about Mytilene^) to the Athenians in general, to whom it was hardly appropriate ; it was, I take it, a covert hit at the ethos and character of Pericles. Now both this speech of Cleon and the counter-speech of Diodotus are, by my criterion, largely composed of matter which is purely Thucydidean. The speech of Diodotus contains, you remember, reflexions on the general theory of punishment — [ the earliest discussion of the subject in literature; and we know from other evidence that this was a question which had a special interest for Pericles. I venture therefore to think that one of the points which Thucydides wishes to make in these speeches is, that the more lenient treatment of the 1 ii. 38. 7. '^ . A '• 116 ANCIENT GREEK HISTORIANS lect. rebels of Mytilene was in accordance with the spiiit of Periclean policy. With the spirit ; but it might have been argued that it was not in accordance with the letter and the logic ; and this, I think, is one of the points which Cleon's speech is intended to suggest. It is notable that while the speaker makes, as I think, an oblique hit at Periclean idealism, and strikes an anti- Periclean note in his dispraise of knowledge and criticism, at the same time he iterates phrases which occur in the Periclean speeches : " Empire means tyranny " ; ** Do not play the virtuous." Thucydides is here studying not only the contrast between the two politicians, but also the difficulties inherent in the Periclean imperialism. § 2. Dramatic treatment of the historiae personae The speeches in general served two purposes. In the first place they were used by the author To^ explain the, facts and elementgof a situation, as well as underlying motives and ideas.. In some cases the speech was only a dramatic disguise of a study of his own. Thus, the characters of the two protagonist cities, Athens and Sparta, are delineated in a speech of a third party, the Corin- thians : the author of this famous comparison was unquestionably Thucydides himself But in other cases he u<^es \\\e, actual expositions of politicians, — genuine political documents so far as the main tenor went, — as the most useful means of explaining IV THUCYDIDES 117 a situation. The comparative advantages of the two contending powers for the coming war are stated in two speeches from opposite points of view.^ The prospects and difficulties of the Sicilian expedition are set forth by the same means. The speeches had the second function — and here I retiu-n to the point from which I set out — of^serying the objective dramatic method of indicating character which Thucvdides chose_ to adopts The speeches of Pericles, Cleon, Brasidas, Nicias, and Alcibiades, taken in conjunction with their actions, reveal as much of their characters as seemed to the author necessary for the matter in hand ; that is, those sides of their nature which in his opinion governed their public actions or affected their political influence. The general plan was that the nigna_ja,5^ well «« t,hf evpntSj should speak or be made to speak for theniselv:es, with little or no direct comment from the writer. This method produced the illusion that the actors showed themselves to the reader indepen- dently of the author. It really meant that the author had framed a psychological estimate of them, as a dramatist constructs his characters : an estimate founded on his knowledge of their actions, but nevertheless no more than his own subjective interpretation. The reader is here almost as completely in the author's hands as in ^ In the second speech of the Corinthians and the first of Pericles. ^ Bruns (see Bibliography) was the first to study systematically the methods of the ancient historians in depicting character. I am much indebted to his well-known book. ^ ., 118 ANCIENT GREEK HISTORIANS lect. a drama. He has not the means of forming a corrective judgment for himself; for he does not , know how the historian has arrived at his results. The application of the method may be observed in the cases of Cleon and Nicias. Thucydides held a distinct view of the character of Cleon as a poli- tician. He allows us to see it reflected from Cleon's actions and from the opinions of people about him. When he describes Cleon as an influential leader of the demos, who was very violent, namely in manner and speech, he only states a fact which was undoubtedly notorious and admitted. The oration of Cleon on the Lesbian question exhibits his fashion of rating the people like a pedagogue. The drastic judgment that, if Cleon's command at Pylos ended in disaster, this would be a great blessing, for it would rid the city of Cleon, is not recorded as the historian's own sarcasm ; it is mentioned as the opinion of some people at Athens. But as the people who thought so are called "sensible" {ad)^pove7l. This interpretation is favoured by F. Cauer. 120 ANCIENT GREEK HISTORIANS lect. is irony of a kind in which Thucydides rarely indulges ; behind it lurks the suppressed judgment that Athens was unfortunate in the trust which she reposed in Nicias, the model of irreproachable respectability. In the case of Alcibiades the historian dwells on the extravagance and display of his private life, because they had a direct influence on the feelings of the Athenians towards him, and affected his public career and the course of the war. But here too the character is revealed in actions and words ; insolence and ambition come out in his orations, and, as I have already observed, some strong phrases seem to be characteristic of his manner. Thucy- dides refrains from commenting on his character, but points out his services and shows that the Athenians regarded him with a suspicious apprehension which prevented them from profiting by his ability. In the cases of Themistocles, Pericles, and Antiphon, the author departs from his usual practice, and gives characterising judgments of his own. In the case of Themistocles this might be considered a necessary exception, as he does not come into the main narrative and cannot reveal himself dramatically. The same reason might be held partly to apply to Pericles, since the greater part of his lifework was over when he comes on the stage. The favourable notice of Antiphon 's ability might also be explained by the fact that he had hardly appeared in the political arena before the year of the revolution, and his appearance then IV THUCYDIDES 121 was so brief. The eulogy on Antiphon indeed has a personal note, which betrays perhaps a friendship. It is, however, futile to seek to explain or explain away these exceptions. The truth is that in general Thucydides is dramatic, but he has not carried his method to extremes. It is noteworthy that nearly all the judgments which he pronounces concern intelligence and , political ability. This is the case with Themi- ^ stocles, Pericles, Antiphon, Theramenes, and Hermocrates. They all receive greater or less praise for political capacity, which in the case of Themistocles is said to have amounted to genius. ^ The case of Hyperbolus demands a few words, because it illustrates the method of Thucydides and his political leanings. In the years between the Fifty Years' Peace and the Sicilian Expedition, the division of parties under the opposing leaders Nicias and Alcibiades paralysed the foreign policy of Athens and hindered continuity of action. The situation was so serious that the only way out seemed that proposed by the demagogue Hyper- bolus— a trial of ostracism, which would expel one of the rivals and secure unity. Alcibiades frus- trated this device by combining, if not with his (rival, at least with a sufficiently large oligarchical faction, to procure the ostracism of Hyperbolus. Thucydides does not say a word about this affair, though of course he was perfectly aware of the facts, and though they had an immediate bearing on the foreign policy of Athens. We must suppose // NCIENT GREEK HISTORIANS lect. that as the purpose of the ostracism was defeated and the relative positions of the two leaders were not altered by the vote, he considered it super- fluous to record the occurrence. It will be admitted, however, that a modern historian who allowed himself such an omission or carried his principle of exclusion so far, would not escape censorious criticism. But in another connexion, Thucydides refers to the ostracism, without dating it, or in any way suggesting its significance. Hyperbolus was killed in 411 b.c. at Samos. Thucydides records this and mentions that Hyper- bolus had been ostracized. This is the only place where he names the demagogue, who in the years following Cleon's death had been one of the most influential speakers in the Ecclesia. We might suspect that in ignoring this politician, just as he ignored men of the same type Uke Eucrates and Lysicles, he exercised a reserve which was equi- valent to an adverse criticism, a negative expression of contempt ; but no doubt is permitted by the words in which he paints his memory black. Hyperbolus was ostracized, we are told, nofl because he was esteemed dangerous, but becaus? he was an unprincipled scoundrel and a disgrace to the city. The same epithet {/xoxOvpo^) is here applied to Hyperbolus which was applied to him by Aristophanes.^ We may note how Thucydides violates here his own principle orrelevanee. — At this moment, Hyperbolus is not interesting or » Knights, 1304. IV THUCYDIDES 123 important, and in holding up his character to reprobation the historian is deviating from his narrative. Again, what he says of the cause of the ostracism is untrue. Hyperbolus was not ostracized because he was a disgrace to the city, whether he was so or not. He would not have been ostracized if the supporters of Alcibiades had not been instructed to write his name on the sherds instead of that of the virtuous Nicias. We know very little about Hyperbolus; but (this judgment of Thucydides cannot be taken as objective or impartial. It is quite clear that he had a profound antipathy to popular leaders like Cleon and Hyper- bolus, and that he was incapable of doing them whatever justice they deservedN And such anti- pathy is sufficient to account for the treatment of Cleon, without invoking a further motive of personal resentment for any part Cleon may have taken in procuring the condemnation of the historian.^ § 3. Rationalistic view of history r I It is by his practice of allowing his characters to \ \ I reveal themselves by their actions and words, while \ keeping himself m the background, although he j does not adhere to this plan with p^dp^tip pon- sistency. thtlt the art r>^ Thnpyrlirlp*; Tinfly bp appropriately called drjiniatic. The description of " dramatic " has indeed been claimed for his history ^ F. M. Comford touches on this point in his Thucydides Mythistoricus. I think he is right. The hypothesis of personal spite is superfluous. 124 ANCIENT GREEK HISTORIANS leot on another ground. It has been thought that he viewed the whole war under the scheme of a tragedy, in which the Sicilian expedition was the peripeteia or *' reversal " of fortune for Athens. This idea has recently been developed in a new shape by Mr. F. M. Cornford, in a brilliant study which seeks to establish that the historian read Aeschylean conceptions into the events of the war and mounted it, like a tragedy, with the dark figures of Tyche, Hybris, Peitho, and Eros, moving in the background and prompting the human actors. That such a conception should be read by an ingenious scholar in a work which impresses the ordinary reader as entirely matter of fact in its treatment of political transactions, illustrates what a wonderful book the history of Thucydides is. The truth is, I think, that the style of Thucydides was influenced by the Attic , drama, no less than by the rhetoric of Gorgias, and it is one of the merits of Mr. Comford's mono- graph to have illustrated this influence. But that the tragic phrases and reminiscences, and the occa- sional use of tragic irony, cannot be held to have more than a stylistic significance, and that Thucy- dides did not intend to cast the war into the typical scheme of a tragic development, will be apparent if "^ we consider his own clear statements. \ W^, (^ His view of the causes of the coUapsp ni |r\thens JJ^ . s ' displays the diff^erence between his own outlook on J^ human affai£S__and that of Herodotus. The older y ^^' ' historian poVirtraying the collapse of the Persian IV THUCYDIDES 125 power discerns, in the development of the plot, imminent above the actors a superhuman control and the occult operation of nemesis. The only external influence recognised by the younger writer appears in the form of the^ mcalculable^ement ^) which he calls Tjiche, Chance. \ Herodotus inter- preted history and life, in the sense that the decline ^^ \ of a state or of a man from a post of commanding eminence was due to the action of a supernatural power which would not tolerate the exaltation which invariably leads to immoderate elation of soul and often to acts of insolence and rashness. "4n one of the speeches in Thucydides this anthropo- pathic idea is translated into the dry formula : " It ^ ) is the nature of human things to decline." But it can hardly be said that he believed unreservedly in this principle (which may be found, in Ionian philosophers) as a certain fact. And ^is analysis of the course of the war and his explanation of its issue show that the operation of the incal- culable element of chance need not be decisive. Itcontributed to t>i#^ dcrlinr of thr Atjippia^^ power, but that power might have survived and defied its outrages, ifit had not been ^^^ biiman ,^ismana|jement. In the early stage of the war there were two cases of the play of the incalculable. There was first of all the plague. But though severe, maim- ing and weakening more than anything else the offensive power of the State for years to come, it was not crushing, it did not spell doom ; one of its '^ ^r 126 ANCIENT GREEK HISTORIANS lect. gravest consequences was the psychical effect upon the Athenians, for which Pericles suffered. The other surprise of fortune was a kind one, the combination of circumstances which helped the "Athenians to their stroke of luck at Pylos. This elated them, as the pestilence had cast them down. Instead of grasping the opportunity of making advantageous terms and bringing to an end a war which they would gladly have concluded on any terms a few years before, they were incited to hopes of new conquest. But the consequences were by no means disastrous ; the Peace of 421 B.C. left the balance of power much the same. They had recovered from the effects of the plague and the war when they undertook the ! conquest of Six^ily 'mJd5 b.c. The catastrophe of jthat enterprise was the beginning of a gradual *yaV.^*^^ 'decline, which was determined by domestic, dissen- — jSions in Athens, and afterwards by the intervention |of Persia. A modern historian has designated the Sicilian expedition as an act of insanity, an instance of a whole people gone mad, analogous to the case of England in the Crimean war. But this was not the opinion of Thucydides. He says, and he is speaking in his own name, that it was not an error of judgment in the design or in the calcula- tion of strength, and would have been a success, if it had been properly supported and carried out. The verdict of the modern writer was influenced partly by ethical considerations ; the verdict of Thucydides did not take ethics into account ; he \/\£.^-^ y^' 1 IV THUCYDIDES 127 only contemplates the question whether, judging the strength of Athens and the resistance offered to her, the ambition of extending her empire to Sicily was reasonable or foolish. The failure of the enterprise and the reverses of the ensuing years he imputes to the dissensions at home ; and in the same way he explains mismanagement in the earlier period of the war by the jealousies of rival poli- ticians. In other words, the key to the decline pf ^ Athenian power was the fact t hat^ericles^ had_lip \ successors. The cityjegan to fall away from_ hfir ^ eminence when her govemmenij^as_jio_ longer controlled by pt\ «^^^ lf*arlf>Tl Even after the Sicilian ~^xpedition, the situation ji^ ^^^ might have been retrieved ; for there was a man marked out to be a leader like Pericles, if the ^ ' Athenians had trusted him. This was Alcibiades. '^ That this was the view which Thucydides formed of Alcibiades can, I think, admit of little doubt. The distrust of the Athenians, he says, contributed heavily to the fall of the city ; Alcibiades con- ducted the war with masterly ability.^ In other words, things would have turned out very~'dif- ferently, if the conduct of affairs had Been entrusted to him. The distrust is attributed to the somewhat insolent display and splendour of his private life, which excited envy and the suspicion of tyrannical designs. Nicias taunts him with this Xa/MTTpoTT)^, Alcibiades glories in it.^ Now the career of Alcibiades had remarkable points of resemblance 1 vi. 15. 2 vL 12 ; 16. 128 ANCIENT GREEK HISTORIANS lect. with that of a great Athenian statesman of a former age, Themistocles. They were both banished from Athens ; both conspired with her enemies against her ; and Alcibiades like Themistocles became a trusted adviser of the Persians. But another point of likeness is indicated by Thucydides, \afi- 7rp6rr}<;. It is not for nothing that he describes Themistocles and Pausanias as the most magni- ficent or luxurious of the Greeks of their time (Xa/iTT/joraTOf?). That was a weak point in the case of Themistocles as in that of Alcibiades ; it led to the suspicion of tyranny. This parallel suggests that one motive of the digression on Themistocles was to point it. At all events it throws light on the view of the historian. Athens produced three men who had the faculty, which cannot be learned by study, for guiding the affairs of a great state, Themistocles, Pericles, and Alcibiades. Two of them fell into the snare of luxurious splendour, which ruined their careers, Pericles avoided that pitfall, and won and retained the public confidence. This contrast, I would observe, gives special point to a famous phrase in the Epitaphios. Pericles himself was ^i\,6KaXo Of the oracle which predicted that the war would last twenty-seven years, he drily observes that it is the only one to which people who put their faith in oracles can point as having been certainly fulfilled. Here he was at the same standpoint as Anaxagoras and Pericles.^ The philosophers who had established the reign of law ,' had not written in vain for Thucydides.^ Chance c>U>*.a means for him the same kind of thin^ that it means for us ; it does not signify the interference, orfljT_exterT}al will or caprice: it simply repres£iLbs an element which cannot be foretold. He recog- nises the operation of the unknown ; he does not recognise the presence of "things occult." And ' He speaks indeed strangely of the frequency of solar eclipses during the war (i. 23. 3), as if they had some significance for the human race ; we may wonder what comment Anaxagoras would have made. ^ Cp. Gomperz, Oriechische Denker, i. p. 61 (on Heracleitus). K 130 ANCIENT GREEK HISTORIANS lect. he reduces the unknown to its minimum of signi- ficance for human life. The great philosopher, Democritus of Abdera, had said : " Chance is an idol which men fashioned to excuse their own mental incapacity. As a matter of fact chance seldom conflicts with wisdom. In most affairs of ; life, an intelligent mind can exercise clairvoyance with success."^ These words of Democritus miffht serve as a motto for Thucydides. \j^ . The_el£ioents for the conception of the war as h^^] a tragedy^_in_Jbhe proper sense of the word, were I absent from his_interpretation of the course of history. There was no mysterious controlling force, no doom or retribution, no inevitable decree of fate, no moral principle at stake. The lessons which the catastrophe conveyed were not moral or I cathartic. The war was fuU of instructive lessons j jfor statesmen and generals • but those lessons were ^ Assuredly of a very different order from the legggg^ of Aeschylus and Sophocles. And the occasional use of phraseology, which the tragedians charged with meaning, should not mislead us. Just as a writer of the present day who is completely inno- cent of any traffic with the supernatural may employ such terms as fate, doom, nemesis, so Thucydides could borrow the personified abstrac- tions of tragedy for purposes of expression, without meaning to suggest anything occult. If I say that ^ Democritus, in Mullach, Froff. Phil. 167. Thucydides observes tub persona Hermocratis (iv. 62. 4) that in war the incalculable element has its uses ; it is the same for both and conduces to caution and prudence. IV THUCYDIDES 131 I have been prompted to do something by an imp of mischief or by a demon of unrest, you will not impute to me a belief in demons or imps. If Thucydides has sometimes expressed psychological observations in the language of tragic poets, this does not prove that he looked at history from a tragic poet's point of viewA § 4. Political analysis [Attempts have inevitably been made to peer behind the scenes and discover the personal political views or tendencies of this singularly reserved historian. Dionysius, a critic who is usually in- structive though never profound and often obtuse, stigmatizes in Thucydides a lack of patriotism so marked as to amount to positive ill - will both towards Greece and towards Athens. " He began at a point where the Greek world had begun to decline. A Greek and Athenian should not have done this, especially one who was no outcast but had been honoured by the Athenians with high command. He was so malicious that he imputed to his own city the open causes of the war, though he might have found means to attach the responsi- bility to other cities. He could have begun not with the Corcyraean affair but with the supreme successes of his country after the Persian war, and could have shown that it was through jealousy and fear, the consequence of these successes, that the Lacedaemonians, alleging other reasons, began the 132 ANCIENT GREEK HISTORIANS lect. war." ^ When this criticism is examined, it will be found that it mainly touches the arrangement of the first Book,^ but it shows that the narrative produced upon Dionysius the impression that Thucydides was unpatriotic. On the other hand, it is held by some modern critics that the account of the beginnings and first years of the war is virtually a defence of the policy of Pericles, and it is even insinuated that tht author manipulated facts, concealing some and mitigating others, with the purpose of presenting that policy in a favourable light. yhis view evidently contradicts that of Dionysius ; it implies that Thucydides sympathized with Athens during the Periclean regime and at the outbreak of the war. The fact_that the narrative can convey two such CO ntradictory^ impressions is a certificate of tlie author's critical impartiality. The censure of Dionysius is based on the conventional principle of later times that it is a historian's duty to be patri- otic at all costs, to sacrifice his critical judgment;^ and it is superfluous to refute his charge of ill- will. On the other hand, the theory that Thucy- dides was an unreserved admirer of Pericles and deliberately intended to exalt and defend his policy, almost as a partisan, has some prima facie plausi- bility, and, as it has a direct bearing on the writer's ^ Letter to Pompeius, 3. 9. - But he also blames Thucydides, 3. 4, 5, for the choice of his subject. The war was oSre KuXbs oihe eiirvx^i, and therefore should be forgotten and ignored by posterity. IV THUCYDIDES 133 attitude to history and politics, we must consider it more particularly. We have seen how Thucydides speaks in the highest terms of the political ability of J'ericle^, and was convinced that, if he had lived or had a successor as able as himself, the war would have terminated favourably for Athens. But this general conviction would be quite compatible with dis- criminating criticism. The jtribute which he has, paid to Pericles does not imply that he saw eye to eye vnth the statesman in all things or held his political faith^ There are proofs, in my opinion, jhatJie exercised here. as_in_other cases, a cold independent judgement, and had no scruples in je:>^hibiting weak points — The speeches of Pericles claim our special atten- "^tion. I may begin by pointing out that the praise which Pericles bestows in the Epitaphios^ on the democratic constitution of Athens, implying that it was an ideal form of government, is not in accordance with the view of Thucydides, who expressly states that in his opinion the short-lived poUteia which was established in Athens after the fall of the Four Hundred was not merely superior to democracy, but was the only good constitution that Athens had enjoyed in his lifetime.^ In other words, he did not consider democracy a good con- stitution. In the second place, we may feel con- 1 ii. 37. ^ viii. 97 KoX oix ^xiara S'Jj rhv wpuTov xpSvov iirl y' i/iov ' KO-qvaioi fpalvovTM e5 iroKiredaavTes. Is the reserve ivL 7' ifxav simply cautiousness, or is it an allusion to the Trdrpios TroXtreio of early times ? 134 ANCIENT GREEK HISTORIANS lect. fident that the eloquent and fascinating portrait of Athens, drawn by Pericles, did not in the historian's opinion correspond to reality. It was the Peri- -^^^ clean ideal. And Thucydides knew perfectly well that the claim that Athens was the school of liberal education for Greece would have been scouted by other states ; and, as a matter of fact, it did not become anything of the kind till after the Pelopon- nesian war. Again, it seems more than doubtful whether Thucydides approved of the Periclean policy of bringing all the inhabitants of Attica into the city. The length at which he dwells on the unpleasant consequences of this arrangement, his pains in showing how distasteful it was to the people, suggest that he considered it a measure of highly questionable wisdom^ He certainly looked on Pericles as the most successful statesman who had recently guided the counsels of Athens. But he saw him, like all his other dramatis personae^ in a^dry light, and, .as I havesuggestedy he has, presented one side of the statesman!s_mind with a certain veiled irony. The dramatic detachment_of Thnr^ydidp*^ r^^p/lily produced the in^essioa- that he was unpatriotic. He allows every party to state their case as strongly_and persuasively as pns«;ib1f>. But while he wrote not as a patriot but as a historian, it is Athens, not Sparta, the Athenian Empire, not the Peloponnesian Confederacy, in which the interest of the narrative centres throughout. As to the questions at stake and the issues involved in the IV THUCYDIDES 185 war, what we may hope to discover is not what political views the historian held, but what was his attitude of mind in observing political events. His interest centres in the Athenian empire. In the passage in which he offers a general explana- tion of the result of the war he writes .from the Athenian side entirely. Now as to the nature of the Athenian empire he has no illusions. — Ifl-the* first Book he unfolds the unscrupulous way in which it was acquired, with perfect candaur.. He states that it was generally unpopular, and he allots a speech to an indictment of it by one of the subject states. That it was a despotism based not on right but on might is not merely alleged by the opponents of Athens but is emphasized by Athenian speakers. The Athenian diplomatist who spoke at the Congress of Sparta characterizes it without any reserve as having been won from motives of self- confidence and ambition ; and the justification assigned is that it is a law of human nature that the weaker should be constrained by the stronger. Pericles is still more candid and emphatic. " The Empire you possess," he says, "is a tyranny; it may have been unjust to acquire, it is perilous to relinquish it." Again : " That man is truly wise who incurs odium for the highest stakes. Hatred does not balance the present magnificence and the future fame." Here power, wealth, and glory are assigned as a justification of an unjustly gotten and unpopular empire. Arguing against the peace- party — oi dirpdyfiovef; — who have scruples about 136 ANCIENT GREEK HISTORIANS lect. justice, Pericles takes the same line, though with more cynicism, as a modern British chauvinist con- temptuous of those whom he calls the Little Eng- landers. He sneers at their conscience, which, he suggests, is a cloak for cowardice. Alcibiades in advocating the Sicilian expedition points out the necessity to imperial states of an active and aggres- sive policy. Hermocrates, the enemy of Athens, does not complain of such a policy on grounds of morality ; he says : "I can fully pardon the Athenians for their grasping policy ; I do not blame those who seek empire, but those who are ready to submit ; for it has always been the natural instinct of man to rule him who yields and to resist the aggressor." The excuse which both Hermocrates and Athenians urge for the acquisition of empire is the instinct of human nature. But Pericles also attempted what may be called a justification on higher grounds. In the Funeral Oration he draws a picture of the grandeur and the culture of Athens. There, he so much as says, is the ideal which our city, by winning power and wealth, through an empire which was certainly not built on foundations of justice, has realised for the admiration and imitation of Hellas. Such things cannot be achieved by timid justice and stay-at- home piety. This is the leit-motif of the Funeral Oration. JThus the historian kept before h^^nself^ ind keeps before^us. the fact that the erpp'^p rannot h^ IV THUCYDIDES 137 defended on^rounds of justice, that it could not be maintained except by force majeure, and that if slavery was an extreme word for the condition of the subject states, they were generally reluctaitt under the yoke^ It is further to be observed that when Thucydides makes occasional reflexions of his own, he never takes justice or morality into account, from which we may infer that in his estimation those conceptions did not illuminate the subject He recognised that the ideal of justice was an actual psychological force and could not be neglected by statesmen, any more than popular religion. But he did not consider it worth while to apply the standard of just.if^e in estim^t^^g political transactions, just fl,*; hp did npt (^sk whether an action was pleasing; to the ^OQsX The speech of Diodotus, "aHvocating lenient treatment for the rebels of Mytilene, is interesting in this connexion. As the speaker played no part in history except here, the harangue must be intro- duced solely for the sake of its arguments. Its chief interest is that it repudiates the intrusion of justice into the question ; the speaker reproaches Cleon for having dragged in so irrelevant a con- sideration, and bases his own view entirely on reasons of state. Thucydides with his usual reti- cence abstains from comment, though the tone of his narrative suggests that he sympathized with the lenient policy ; but the fact that he chose these speeches of Cleon and Diodotus for working up, and that he has worked them up largely in the ^y 1 138 ANCIENT GREEK HISTORIANS lect. style which he employs when he is not docu mentary, shows that his interest lay in the logic of 'policy. In the light of the debate on Mytilene we may consider the notorious debate of the Athenian and Melian representatives. Melos, you remember, was an independent stq-te. Athens had made an attempt to force her into her empire in 426 b.c. ; the idea was not resumed till 416 b.c., but in the meantime the relations of the two states had been hostile. When the expedition reached the island, the generals sent envoys to demand submission. They were admitted to a round-table conference •1^ with members of the^ Melian government, and j Thucydides ^ives in the form of a dialogue what j purposes to be the tenor of the debate. That such| a conference was held, there cannot be a reasonable doubt, nor is it improbable that Thucydides had something to work upon. There is no difficulty in " supposing that he might have heard enough from some one who knew to furnish him with a text. \ The note of the dialoguejs-the elimination of - justice from th^ discussion^ by the Athenians. "Lass unsern Herr Gott aus dem Spass." Thej field of the argument is confined to policy and reason of state. When the Melians essay to find an issue from this restricted ground by observing^ J that, being innocent of wrong, they expect a| heaven-sent chance to intervene in their favour, the Athenians retort that gods as well as men recognise it to be a law of nature that the weaker IV THUCYDIDES 139 should be ruled by the stronger. Now this is nothing more than what had already been said by Hermocrates and the Athenian envoy at Sparta. The attitude of the Athenians on this occasion is exactly the same as that of Diodotus in arguing for leniency towards Mytilene. Both alike are ^- sJ ruthlessly realistic ; both alike refuse to consider '^ any reason but reason of state. The conscience and feelings of the readers of Thucydides have been shocked by the tone of the Athenians at Melos because they sympathize with Melos ; whereas they are not shocked by Diodotus because they sympathize with Mytilene. Yet Diodotus in 427 B.C. regarded Mytilene just as Athens in 416 B.C. regarded Melos, merely as a pawn in the game of empire. It is also important to observe that the discussion in the Melian council-chamber before the siege has nothing to do with the rigorous . treatment of the people after the capture of the '^ city. A few years before, Athens had meted out the same treatment to Scione ; all the adult males were killed, the women and children enslaved. Thucydides makes no comment in either case. But if Athens had contented herself with reducing Melos to the condition of a tributary, the notorious dialogue would have been equally to the point. The policy of annexing Melos was one thing, the policy of punishing was another ; Thucydides does not express his views on either. But it has been supposed by various critics that he introduced a cynical dialogue for the purpose of holding up to ^ J 140 ANCIENT GREEK HISTORIANS lect. obloquy the conduct of Athens, and even of making it appear an ill-omened prelude to the disastrous expedition against Sicily. This theory will not, in my opinion, bear examination. Thucydides, as we have seen, did not consider that the Sicilian expedi- tion was ill-advised in principle, and he does not hint that any consequences, bad or good for Athens, ensued from the conquest of Melos. The truth is, I think, that Thucydides tookthe opportunity of the round-table conference to exhibit, pure and unvarnished, the springs of political action. The motives and arguments of the Athenians, whether wisely or unwisely applied in this particular case, were nothing new; they were the same which lay at the foundation of all their empire-building. This was the first case of a new annexation since the outbreak of the war, and iJLSLas-thft first occasJQii-QiFfired^^tojbhe historian to analyse imperial policy from the point of view of aggression ; he had already examined it from the point of view of preservation. The Melian dialogue only develops more undisguisedly and expressly — and the circumstance that no public was present gave the author the artistic pretext for candour — what is to be found in all the argumentative speeches : that not justice but reason of state is the governing consideration which guides the agtion o? cities and claims the interest of historians. i We are now in a position to understand jthe attitude of Thucydides. His_object is to examine and reveal political actiims from an eooLhrnneht IV THUCYDIDES 141 political point of ^;^g«?. Jle does not consider moral^ ^^ standards; his nie^j^d, is jealistic_and^ detached ; he takes history as it is and examines it on its own merits^ This detached analytical treatment is illus- tratedoy the earliest political prose pamphlet we possess, written by a contemporary of the historian in the early years of the war ; I mean the short tract on the Athenian Constitution. The author was an oligarch and declares without reserve his personal hostility to the democracy ; but it is not a polemical work. He detaches himself from his own feelings, places himself at the point of view of democrats, and examines democracy exclusively in this light. Applying his acute logic, he demon- strates that the institutions of Athens could hardly be improved upon. The writer is intellectually allied to Thucydides in the detachment of his atti- tude and the logical restriction of the issue under a particular point of view. Now when Thucydides offers reflexions in (L^ ^j^roj^ria persona on evente, his criticisms, on the rju^V^uyav policy of Athens, for instance, or oji the value of an v/ Athenian politician, are generally determined by the consideration whether they were conducive to success or failure in the war. ^In his appreciation of Brasidas, he places himself at the point of view "0 of Sparta, and recognises that this general's con- duct, policy, and character were conducive to the extension of Spartan power in competition with Athens. He takes the objects of the conflicting states as given, without approving or condemning ; 142 ANCIENT GREEK HISTORIANS lect. and in recording acts and methods his^rare verdicts of praise or blame are confined_to the questjgn whether those acts and methods were calculated to achieve their object^; just as in characterizing a man he refers only to his intellectual powers. He offers no opinion whether the aims were justifiable or admirable ; he applies no ethical standard to policies or politicians. I Of course, he was fully conscious of ethical questions which arise in connexion with high politics, and these questions raise their heads in the dramatic parts of the work. In the speeches, justice and expediency are frequently distinguished and opposed. A speaker, for example, according to circumstances, is concerned to show that a course which is just is also expedient, or that expedience ought to be preferred to justice. Sometimes the consideration of justice is briefly dismissed as irrelevant. It appears as a psychical factor actually operative in international transac tions, a principle to which at least homage of the lips was paid, by which praise and blame were popularly awarded, and which therefore had to be taken into account. But its role was slight and subordinate : the dramatist could not ignore it, though he allows it as small a range as he can ; the thinker dismissed it. [ There is not, so far as I can discover, any reason for believing that Thucydides thought or intended to suggest that an uncompromising policy of self- interest conduced to the fall of the Athenian IV THUCYDIDES 143 empire, or that her wrong and unwise actions were wrong and unwise because they were guided k by considerations of expediency alone. There is no ground for supposing that he would have khad a thought of censure, if he had lived in our own days, for statesmen like Cavour and Bismarck and Disraeli, who were guided exclusively by reason of state, and are therefore blamed by moralists for having debased the moral currency in Europe. If, instead of a history, Thucydides had written an analytical treatise on politics, with particular reference to the Athenian empire, it is probable that he would occupy a different place from that which he holds actually in the world's esteem ; he would have forestalled the fame of Machiavelli. . . Thucydides simply observes facts ; Machiavelli lays down maxims and prescribes methods ; but the '^(^*-*^ whole innuendo of the Thucydidean treatment of n^- history agrees with the fundamental postulate of Machiavelli, the supremacy of reason_of state. ^__ To maintain a state, said the Florentine thinker, "a statesman is often compelled to act against faith, humanity, and religion." In Thucydides, , ^easQUjof _atatfi_appearsL_a&_actually the. sovran guide \ ] ta^tiifcjCQnd.uct of_afl^irs. .>Biit the essential point ,i ofcoTjaparisQiL-is-that both historians, in exgimnmg "^ history and politics, jabstracted from_allJbut political considerations, and applied logic to this restricted ^eld. Machiavelli — the true Machiavelli, not the Machiavelli of fable, the scelerum inventor UUxes \J 144 ANCIENT GREEK HISTORIANS lect. — entertained an ideal : Italy for the Italians, Italy freed from the stranger : and in the service of this^ ideal he desired to see his speculative science of politics applied. Thucydides had no political aim in view ; he was purely a historian ; his interest was to investigate the actual policy of Athens in [-maintaining and losing her empire. Butjt^jatas part of the method of both alike to eliminate conventional sentiment and moralitoj^ A certain use of the term aperri by Thucydides has an interest in this connexion. It is sometimes said that he did not assign great importance to the action and role of individuals! TKis^ seems to me a mistake, due to the circumstance that he does not draw personal portraits in the manner of sub- sequent historians. For it is evident that he considered the brains and wisdom of him whom he calls *' the first man " as largely responsible for the success of Athenian policy before the Pelopon- nesian war. We can read between the lines that in his view the Peisistratids, Themistocles, and Alcibiades were also forces which counted for a great deal. The pre-eminent significance of the individual was a tenet of INIachiavelli and his con- temporaries (a classical feature of the Renaissance) ; it was a prince, an individual brain and will, to which he looked for the deliverance and regenera- tion of Italy. Both writers conceived the individual, as a political fe£torj_pin[ely.iiiCHuJthe intellectual side. Now Thucydides has used aperrj in his notice of the oligarch Antiphon, to express the intelli- IV THUCYDIDES 145 gence, dexterity, and will-power of a competent statesman, in sharp contradistinction to the con- ventional ap€T7] of the popular conception. The only appropriate equivalent by which we can render in a modern language this Thucydidean dperi] is a key -word of Machiavelli's system, virtii, a quality possessed by men like Francesco Sforza and Cesare Borgia.^ It must be understood that tMs attitude of; XJiucy^lides only concerns .. international politics, the subject of his work. Domestic politics lie, except incidentally, outside his scope. When he turns aside to describe the disintegrating influence of party faction on the internal conditions of Greek states, he recognises the important opera- tion of ethical beliefs and religious sanctions in holding a society together. But where national aims are at stake and international rivalries are in motion, no corresponding beliefs and sanctions appear, possessing the same indefeasible value for the success and prosperity of a state. There is irony in his remark that the Lacedaemonians, after the first war had come to an end, ascribed their own want of success to the fact that they had refused the Athenian proposition to submit the Peloponnesian grievances to arbitration, in accord- ance with the Thirty Years' Peace. It is note- worthy that in the Funeral Oration of Pericles, ^ Since writing this paragraph, I observe that Murray had already compared this dper'^ to virtit (in his chapter on Thucydides, History of Greek Literature). L 146 ANCIENT GREEK HISTORIANS lect. where he pourtrays the qualities of his countrymen, there is not a single word about those conventional virtues in which Nicias shone. The Athenians are y praised for their political intelligence and versa- tility, for their adventurous activity, for enlight- ened freedom in their intercourse with strangers, and for other excellent things. Not a word is said of their piety, and they were certainly pious. We are told that they have accomplished much and reached the heights by their own talents and their own toil. There is not a word, not a single per- functory phrase, of assistance or favour from heaven. Of religion, or of morality in the con- ventional sense, there is not a syllable from the beginning to the end of this brilUant speech. Pericles could hardly have-aioided_^LJeast.,Sfime "^^^^tionJ^reference tojhe gods,m 1^^ he^_actuany_deliYfii£dljt-JM^ sepulture •, ,t.hat. -j Thucydides overlooked Jtjsjignificant. IfnEhiripp^ciaHo^ of the historian is sympa- thetic, I hope you will not suppose that I belong to the band of devotees who make a cult of Thucy- dides and can see no defects in their idol. Such devotees existed in ancient as well as in modern times, and the historian's ancient indiscriminating J .admirers received a very proper rebuke from / I Dionysius of Halicamassus. I have already x^ ' sugg;ested JhaJJae-iiarned-hisa^^ )^ I and_omissigntoiL.far. His treatment of individuals ' / ! displays a more serious limitation in his idea of '^ 1 historical reconstruction. Thucydides does not IV THUCYDIDES 147 seem to have grasped fully that in estimating jhe a^tiQn_^of__arL-ifldiyidual in histojn[__his_ wfeole character must, be taken into accQimt ; he is a -^ psychical unity, and it is not possible to detach and isolate certain qualities. Psychological recon- struction is one of the most important as well as delicate problems which encounter the historian, and Thucydides failed to realise all that it means. In his impatience of biographical trivialities, he went to the extreme of neglecting, Mography alto- ^ther. Take, for instance, his silence concerning the personality of Pericles. This statesman was one of the forces which operated in bringing about the war, and to understand his actions we want to know more about his personality. Thucydides is content to note his consummate political ability and his indifference to money, and to indicate his idealism. This does not enable us to realise what manner of man Pericles was ; we still feel, and ' modern criticism illustrates this, that he is in many respects an unknown or at least ambiguous quantity. The wor^ '^f T'K.ir»yri;riQo Yfr,a limitations which *^ we must beware of underrating ; but it marks the / longest and most decisive step that has ever been ^ taken by a sinp;le man towards making history P what it is to-day. Out of the twilight) in ^faich Herodotus still moved wondering, he burst^nto the sunlight where facts are hard, not_to_w5[flder biit to^miderstanc}^ With the Greeks historical study never acquired the scientific character which it was reserved for the nineteenth century to 148 ANCIENT GREEK HISTORIANS lect. impress upon it. But within the limits of the task he attempted Thucydides was a master in the craft of investigating contemporary events, and it may be doubted whether within those limits the nine- teenth century would have much to teach him. If he had admitted his readers into the secrets of his workshop, if he had more clearly displayed his raw material and shown how he arrived at his conclu- sion, if he had argued and discussed, he might have exercised a greater influence than he did on the methods of subsequent Greek historians. His in- complete work, posthumously published, had an "l immediate and far-reaching result in establishing 1 political history ; and in the next lecture we shall see how men of the younger generation received a j I stimulus from him. But, although the value and greatness of his work were at once recognised, and he always remained the one and undisputed authority on the period he had treated, yet, for several centuries after his immediate successors, his history seems to have been little read except by scholars ; he was a great name, not a living influence as a teacher or a model. His style, with its ** old-fashioned and wilful beauty,"^ repelled, and other ideals of history, sharply opposed to his, came into fashion. It was not till the first century B.C., with the return to Attic models, that the interest in his work revived ; and from that time we can trace his influence on leading writers ^ down ^ 6lPX0-'Ck(>v re koL aCOades KdWos, Dionysius, Tepl and he illus- trates it by examples. For instance, while the beginning of the Persian war of Alexander the Great was his crossing over into Asia, the causes are sought by Polybius as far back as the expedi- tion of Cyrus and the wars of Agesilaus.^ But it cannot be said that he goes very deep into the question of historical causes. He conceives causa- tion in an external and mechanical way, and he does not proceed beyond the idea of simple one- sided causation to the idea of reciprocity, or of action and reaction, which is often required to express adequately the relations of historical phenomena. The view of Polybius on causation in general is more interesting than his applications of it to particular cases. Until he was well on in years and had virtually completed his work, he shared the popular belief that, apart from the regularly operating natural and human causes, a superhuman - power, which men call Tyche, exerts a control over events and diverts them in unexpected ways. This popular view had been presented in a quasi- ■ philosophical dress by Demetrius of Phaleron, whose treatise Uepl rv^n^i ^ doubtless made a deep ^ ii. 37. 3 ; cp. iii. 1. 3. 2 ijj g. ' It is not preserved, but its general argument and contents were transferred by Plutarch into his Consolation to ApoUonius. Consult the work of von Scala (see Bibliography). VI POLYBIUS 201 impression on the mind of Polybius, for its influence on a number of passages in his work has been proved by von Scala. The event of 167, the fall of the Macedonian monarchy, the new step in the resistless advance of the western world - power, in whose chariot wheels Polybius himself and his country were caught up, might well seem a powerful confirmation of the theories of the wise man of Phaleron. Though Polybius traces the causes of the success of Rome to its history and constitution, he writes as follows in the preface to the original plan of his work : T" Fortune has caused the whole world and its ^history to tend towards one purpose — the empire I of Rome. She continually exercises her power in the lives of men and brings about many changes, yet never before did she achieve such a labour as she has wrought within our memory." ^ Thus the Roman conquests produced upon Polybius the same impression which the Macedonian conquests had produced upon Demetrius. Elsewhere Poly- bius quotes the very words which Demetrius had used.^ *' Fortune, who exhibits her power in compassing the unexpected, is even now, I think, displaying it to the world, having made the Macedonians the inheritors of Persian prosperity. She has lent them these blessings, till she forms a new resolution on their destiny." In many other places, too, Polybius recognises the active operation of Fortune, and comments on her 1 i. 4. 5. ' xxix. 21. 5-6. 202 ANCIENT GREEK HISTORIANS lect. instability, her paradoxes, her caprices, quite in the tone of Demetrius. But there are other passages in which Polybius sounds a very different note. Thus he finds fault with writers who ascribe public calamities or private misfortunes to Fortune and Fate, and only allows that when it is impossible or difficult for man to discover causes, as in the case of storms or droughts, he may in his embarrassment refer them to God or Fortune, 7 but when you can discover the cause of an event it is not, in my opinion, admissible to impute it to God."^ Before you pray for rain, it is wise to look at the barometer. Again, he deprecates the practice of ascribing to fortune or the gods what is due to a man's ability and prudence. These and other similar observa- tions are not perhaps ultimately inconsistent with the doctrine of Demetrius, but the note is different; they show a desire to restrict the operation of the external power within as narrow limits as possible. But there are other assertions which are directly opposed to that doctrine. When he inquires into the causes of the power and eminence attained by the Achaeans, a people who were not numerous and lived in a small country, "it is clear," he says,^ " that it would be quite unsuitable to speak of Fortune ; that is a cheap explanation ; we must rather seek the cause. Without a cause nothing can be brought about, whether normal or apparently abnormal." When he wrote this, he had reached 1 xxxvL 17. 1^. 2 ii^ 38_ 5, I VI POLYBIUS 203 a point of view diametrically opposed to that which he had learned from Demetrius. Further, he applied his new doctrine to the empire of Rome. If, in the words which 1 quoted a few moments ago, he had claimed Rome's successes as a supreme illustration of the mysterious dealings of Fortune, he now, with equal confidence, re- pudiated the theory that Fortune had anything to do with the making of Rome's greatness. " It was not by fortune, as some of the Greeks think, nor causelessly, that the Romans succeeded ; their success was quite natural ; it was due to their training and discipline ; they aimed at the hegemony and government of the ^w.ftrld,. and they attained their purpose."^ Thus it appears that Polybius, having originally started with the conception of an extra - natural — power, directing the world and diverting the course of events from its natural path, was led by wider experience of life and deeper study of history to reduce within narrower and narrower bounds the intervention of this deus ex machina, /-i until he finally reached the view that it was super- — fluous for the pragmatical historian. But it would be rash to assert that he ultimately embraced a theory of pure naturalism. All we can say is that he came to entertain the view that nothing happens without a natural cause, and the opera- tion of Tyche or chance is, in general, an invalid ^ assumption. » i. 63. 9. 204 ANCIENT GREEK HISTORIANS lect. It is probable that Stoicism had something to do with his change of view. It is certain that he came under the influence of the new school of liberal Stoics, through intercourse with Panaetius, who, like himself, was an inmate of the house of Scipio at Rome. *' I remember," says a speaker in Cicero's De RepuhUca,^ *' that you, Scipio, often conversed with Panaetius in the presence of Poly- bius, two Greeks the most deeply versed in politics " {rerum civilium). Polybius did not \ become a Stoic, but he assimilated some Stoic ideas, as in his earlier life he had been influenced by the Peripatetics. In his actual treatment and presentation of historical events, the fluctuation in his views on this question probably did not make much differ- ence. A change in his views as to the freedom of the will would have affected his treatment far more deeply. I know for myself that on days when I am a determinist I look on history in one way, and on days when I am an indeterminist, in quite another. Polybius was an indeterminist, like most Greeks ; he believed in free-will. The particular Stoic influences to which he submitted did not touch this doctrine. For Panaetius di not share the doctrine of Chrysippus and old Stoics, that the world is governed by laws of iron necessity which exclude free-will. We can see the results of his contact with Stoicism in the account which Polybius gives of 1 i. 21. 34. VI POLYBIUS 205 the rise and fall of political constitutions.^ He adopts the newer Stoic version of the theory of a cyclic succession of forms of government. When the human race is swept away (this has happened, and may be expected to happen again) through deluges, plagues, or famines, and a new race takes its place, the work of civilisation has to begin afresh ; monarchy is the first form in which society constitutes itself; this passes through successive corruptions and revolutions (tyranny, aristocracy, oligarchy, democracy) into an anarchical democracy which Polybius calls cheirocracy, the rule of might ; from which a dissolving society can only be rescued by a return to monarchy, and then the cycle begins again. In the interval between two cataclysms there may be any number of such cycles. Polybius accepts catastrophic occurrences not as a mere ancient tradition or philosophical speculation, but as a proved scientific fact.^ The theory of a recurring cycle of political constitutions which comes from Plato and the Stoics is an application of the cyclical theory of the world-process which was propounded by early philosophers. Such a theory is more or less im- plied by Anaximander and Heracleitus, but it was clearly formulated, in very definite terms, by the Pythagorean school.' You remember the passage in Virgil's Fourth Eclogue where a new Argonautic 1 In Book VI. 2 vi 5 5^ ^ Cp. Gomperz, Oriechische Denker, i. 46, 54, 113 sqq. 206 ANCIENT GREEK HISTORIANS lect. expedition is contemplated and a second Trojan war : — atque iterum ad Troiam magnus mittetur Achilles. That is the cyclical doctrine, and logically it applied to small things as well as great. I may illustrate it in the vivid manner of the philosopher Eudemus. According to the Pythagorean theory, some day I shall again with this manuscript in my hand stand here in this hall and lecture on Polybius, and you each and all will be sitting there just as you are this evening ; and every- thing else in the world will be just as it is at this moment. In other words, the cosmical pro- cess consists of exactly recurring cycles, in which the minutest occurrences are punctually repeated.^ We do not remember them — if we did, they woulc not be the same. But the cyclical doctrine was not, perhapsj generally taught in this extreme form.^ Polybius does not appear at first to have held even th< universal validity of the law of growth, bloom,' and decay. He considered that it holds good of simple constitutions, pure monarchy, for instance, or pure democracy, but he thought that the setting in of decay could be evaded by a judicious mixture of constitutional principles. He has submitted to a minute analysis the Spartan and the Roman systems of government, as eminent examples of ^ It is interesting to observe that Dionysius {Uepl tQp dpxcUwv p-qrSpup, 2) suggests periodicity as an explanation of the Attic renaissance : efre OeoO Tivos dp^avros etre 250 ANCIENT GREEK HISTORIANS lect. deeper practical importance. For the last two generations historical investigation has been exer cising, steadily and irresistibly, an influence on our mental attitude ; it has been affecting our sense of our own position in the world and our estimate of the values of things. History, in the ordinary and narrower sense of recorded human transactions, has been advancing concurrently with that wider his- tory, which is the business of physical science, and which embraces the evolution of life on our planet, the evolution of the planet itself, and the evolution of the cosmos. But certain results of historical science, though less sensational, have been in some respects not less effective, than the results of physical science, because they are closer to us and, at present at least, concern us more directly. J These results may perhaps be summed up most] concisely in the phrase used by German writers, "historical relativity." We have come to see that all events in the past, however differing in import- ance, were relative to their historical conditions; that they cannot be wrenched out of their chrono logical context and endowed with an absolute significance. They are parts of a whole, and have no meaning except in relation to that whole, just as a man's arm has no meaning apart from his body. The recognition of this truth at once affects our view of the present ; for it follows that the ideas and events of to-day have no absolute value, i but merely represent a particular stage of human development. Ideas and facts are thus put in 'i VIII HISTORICAL RELATIVITY 251 their place. Some are abased, others are exalted. If they are dependent on their historical context, they may also be justified by it For instance, from the point of view of modern conditions, we shudder at the relation which the Church held to the State in the Middle Ages ; but when we study the conditions of that period, we may acknowledge that the relation was justified. It is hard to say at which of our present-day Western institutions future generations will shudder most ; but we may hope that they will also discover justifications. This principle of historical relativity induces what may be called the historical attitude of mind ; it changes our outlook also on the present and the future ; and therefore it has a direct practical value. Perhaps it is fair to say that it is one of the most important results of the mental develop- ment of the nineteenth century.^ I have suggested that this change is not less effective than our new conceptions of the evolution of nature. I may illustrate this by comparing the ways in which the advance of historical science and ^ Although the principle of historical relativity, with its implication that there are no absolute values in history, that values vary according to time and place, is a modern idea ; nevertheless the Greeks made virtual application of it, occasionally and in very simple cases. Thucydides furnishes an instance. He suggests that, if the Greeks of his day regard piracy as an offence against morals, they must not apply their standard to a different stage of civilisation, when piracy was esteemed an honour- able profession. This is one of the few examples to be found in ancient writers of what we call an historical sense. Another example is furnished by Eratosthenes, who pointed out that in studying Homer the historical conditions of his age must be taken into account, and that his geogra- phical ideas corresponded to the ignorance which then prevailed ; his authority therefore has no value transcending the conditions of his own time. 252 ANCIENT GREEK HISTORIANS lect. the advance of physical science have respectively operated on theology. The discoveries of geology, the doctrine of evolution, and the Darwinian theory created loud alarm in the Churches, but they really only touched outworks ; and their acceptance by ecclesiastical authorities could not have had a much greater effect on the received body of essential doctrine than the acceptance of the heliocentric system which seemed a diabolical idea to the per- secutors of Galilei. Contrast the effects of the historical criticism which began with Strauss and Bauer. It has been operating as a steady and powerful solvent of traditional beliefs ; and to-day we see that within the Churches the men who have brains and are not afraid to use them are trans- forming the essential doctrines, under the aegis of historical criticism, so radically that when those doc- trines emerge it will be difficult to recognise them. I may observe here, and by the way, that it is highly important for the historian to be aware that the doctrine of historical relativity applies no less to his own historical judgments than to other facts. His view is conditioned by the mentality of his own age ; the focus of his vision is determined within narrow limits by the conditions of contem- porary civilisation. There can therefore be nothing final about his judgments, and their permanent interest lies in the fact that they are judgments pronounced at a given epoch and are characteristic of the tendencies and ideas of that epoch. The Greeks had no notion of this. They would have VIII HISTORICAL RELATIVITY 253 said that the judgment of a wise man at any time might be final or absolutely valid. Older Christian historians thought that they were in possession of absolute criteria ; and the illusion that a historical judgment may be the last word is still prevalent. It must ultimately yield to the principle of his- torical relativity which, as the experience of the race grows, will be more and more fully recognised. \ Before I pass from this principle I may note another point. One might think a priori that the study of history is eminently adapted to form an antidote to chauvinism, self-satisfaction, and in- tolerance. It cannot, however, be said that hitherto it has actually done much to counteract these habits of mind ; it has been more inclined to subserve them. But it seems probable that it may be more effective in the future. The new historical conception, which we have been considering, is evidently calculated to promote the spirit of tolerance, and cool the spirit of self-satisfaction, more efficaciously than any previous idea. The tolerance of the ordinary man who naively urges in excuse of the heathen that they " know no better " must be applied, on the principle of historical rela- tivity, to ourselves ; that principle bids us remember that we "know no better," that we stand within the strict barriers of our historical conditions, and that we shall be judged hundreds or thousands of years hence by critics who look forth from a higher specular platform of civilisation. The thought of the judgment of a distant II m 254 ANCIENT GREEK HISTORIANS lect. posterity leads us to another, though closely related, conception which has only in recent times become alive and real for us. It is remarkable how little the Greeks and Romans thought or speculated about the future of the race. The shortness of the period over which their historical records extended, their doctrine of cyclical recurrence, and the widely spread belief in a decline from a golden age, may have hindered them from taking a practical interest in the subject ; though they contemplated long periods of time, for instance the magnus annus^ equivalent in duration to 12,954 ordinary years. Tacitus, in a very interesting passage, asks : What do we mean by using the terms ancient and modern ? " The four hundred years, which separate us from Demosthenes, seem long in comparison with the brevity of human life ; but they are almost a vanishing quantity if you compare them with the duration of the ages {ad naturam saeculorum) ; why, if you consider even the magnus annus, Demosthenes, whom we call an ancient, seems to belong to the same year, nay the same month, as ourselves." This passage stands almost alone, I think, in its appreciation of historical perspective. But such flashes of consciousness of our position in time did not awaken any serious or persistent curiosity about the future fortunes of the race. The Greeks were imbued with what may justly be called a progressive spirit ; but they did not asso- ciate their labours for the improvement of civilisa- tion with any notion of an indefinite advance of the VIII IDEA OF DEVELOPMENT 255 human race in knowledge, in mastery of nature, and in the structure of society. I think we may safely say that the general conditions of their own life and thought seemed to the Greeks final, capable only of modification and improvement in details; they never dreamed that more complex forms of civil- isation, and entirely different from theirs, might be reached by a gradual development in the course of time. They dreamed of a golden age, but they generally placed it behind them. They sought it in simpler, not in more complex, conditions. And their eagerness to improve the lot of man did not take the form of a conscientious or passionate sense of obligation to posterity. The idea of duty towards posterity which often appears in Greek patriotic orations has mainly a rhetorical value, and does not imply any serious concern about future generations. Afterwards, the fancy of the Chris- tians that the life of the human race on earth would be very brief, and that men would then pass into monotonous states in which there would be no history, excluded any thoughts of future terrestrial progress ; and the psychological effects of this error, promulgated by the Church, are a distinct factor in human development. It is only since this fiction has been exploded that the vista of progress in an indefinitely long future has become part of our mental outlook, and has introduced, as all ideas of such a range must introduce, a new ethical principle, namely, duty towards the future heirs of the ages. Progress was a feature in the philosophy fi. 1 256 ANCIENT GREEK HISTORIANS lect. of Leibniz. In 1750 Turgot stated a theory of historical progress very clearly. But though the doctrine was not new at the time of the French Revolution, the full significance of the idea was first impressed on the world in the famous book of Turgot's friend, Condorcet, Esquisse dun tableau historique des progi'es de T esprit humain (1795). Here the meaning of the historical process was declared to be social and political progress. It is easy to see that this view, which was diffused by the writings of Comte and Buckle, as well as by the speculations of Saint-Simon and Fourier, was calculated to stimulate interest in the past more powerfully than any previous conception. It imparts to history an intenser meaning. We are led to conceive the short development which is behind us and the long development which is before us as coherent parts of a whole ; our ** prag- matic " interest in the destinies of our race neces- sarily communicates a " pragmatic " interest to its past fortunes. "Progress" of course implies a judgment of value, and is not scientific. It assumes a standard, — some end or ends, by relation to which we judge historical movements and declare that they mean progress. We have no proof that absolute pro- gress has been made, for we have no knowledge of an absolute end ; and, therefore, scientifically we , are not justified in speaking of the history of civilised man as progress ; we can only be sure that it is a causal sequence of transformations. VIII IDEA OF PROGRESS 257 It may, then, be objected that the indefinite progress of the race is only an assumption, which time may disprove. It may be asked too, what guarantee have we that our Western civilisation, granting that it is on an upward gradient, and that no bounds or bars to its ascent are yet in sight, may not some day reach a definite limit, through the operation of some cause which is now obscure to our vision ? Fully admitting that such theoretical scepticism is justifiable, and that persistent progress is an assumption, I submit that it does not affect my point. The idea of progress is, in the present age, an actual, living force ; and what I have said as to its bearing on the study of history remains valid. May we not even say that the uncertainty which hangs about the question, with the possi- bility of man's progress on the one hand, and of his decadence on the other, communicates an appealing interest to the study of the past, as a field in which we may discover, if we can penetrate deep enough, some clue to the destinies of civilisa- tion ? The absence of the idea of an indefinite progress in Greek and Roman speculation is one of the gulfs which separate us from the ancients. Its emergence has had the consequence of making history far more alive. With the Greeks, who applied the inadequate conception of Tyche or Fortune, the reconstruction of the past was an instinct which they justified by reasons which were superficial. For us, because we have a deeper s 258 ANCIENT GREEK HISTORIANS lect. insight into the causal connexion of past and future, because we have grasped the idea of develop- ment and dreamed the dream of progress, the reconstruction of history has become a necessity. It has also become a science. The promotion of history to the rank of a science or TVissenschaft is due to the conception of development. We con- ceive every historical event or phenomenon as a moment in a continuous process of change, and the historian's problem is to determine as completely as possible its connexions with what went before and with what came after, to define its causal rela- tions and its significance in the development to which it belongs. The unattainable ideal of his- torical research is to explain fully the whole development of human civilisation. This is as much a scientific problem as to trace the history of the solar system or of animal life on the earth, though natural and historical science deal with very different kinds of data, and employ different methods. If the Greeks had possessed records extending over the history of two or three thousand years, the conception of causal develop- ment would probably have emerged, and they might have founded scientific history. The limita- tion of their knowledge of the past to a few centuries disabled them from evolving this idea ; and history therefore always remained subordinate to immediate practical ends. But we must not underrate the importance of the new view which Thucydides announced to the world, that history is VIII SCIENTIFIC HISTORY 259 not merely a story book, but an education for statesmen. That view marked a great advance. It meant a new conception of the historian's responsibility and the inauguration of a higher standard of accuracy. Its proclamation by Thucy- dides may be placed beside the announcement of scientific history in 1824 ^ by Ranke, who suggested that the historian's task is not to teach lessons or pass judgments, but simply to investigate how things happened. And as the view of Thucydides was combined with the requirement of accuracy, so the appearance of the modern doctrine was contemporaneous with the introduction of scientific methods. As a science, history is disinterested. Yet the very idea of development, which led to the con- ception of history as a science, has enhanced its interest for mankind. So far, indeed, is the Greek view that history has a value for life from being exploded, that the bearing of the past on our mental outlook, on our ideas and judgments, on the actualities of the present and the eventualities of the future, is increasing more and more, and is becoming charged with deeper significance. The Hellenic conception of history as humanistic is truer than ever. 1 Preface to OeschicfUen der romanischen und germanischm Volker von 1494 bis 1535. APPENDIX THE RE-HANDLING OF HIS HISTORY BY THUCYDIDES The natural probability that Thucydides occupied the years of his exile after the Fifty Years'" Peace in finishing and revising the history of the war which was apparently over, is borne out by a number of passages which evidently con- template only the Ten Years'* War, and must have been differently phrased if they had been composed after 404 b.c. But, on the other hand, there are also a number of passages which refer to later events, and imply the Sicilian expedition and the fall of Athens. The obvious explanation is that the author read over the first portion of his work, and made a number of additions and alterations, but allowed some inconsistent phrases to escape his eye.^ The most unmistakable of these additions is the passage * in which the author escorts Pericles from the scene and characterizes his statesmanship in the light of the subsequent events which approved its wisdom, showing that if his policy had been pursued, and if he had had a successor like him- self, the issue would have been different. Here Thucydides comments on the Sicilian expedition and refers to the later events of the war.^ But there is a far longer and more important section in ^ As iv. 48. 5 ; ii. 94. 1 (which was not revised in the light of viii. 96. 1). ^ ii. 65. 5 to end. * The last sentences of ii. 81 were posterior to the Sicilian expedition. The notice of Archelaus (413-399 b.c), ii. 100. 2, is a late insertion ; like- wise iv. 74. 4. E. Meyer has noted that Kprjvai ykp oSiru fi